


Too Far Away

by SeerFang30077



Series: Too Far Away [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aspergers, Autism, Gen, Original Character(s), aspec, gregory alan isakov, too far away
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 89,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27902389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeerFang30077/pseuds/SeerFang30077
Summary: With nowhere else to go, Zuko and his Uncle Iroh are forced to flee into hostile territory, accompanied by a friend who’s determined to help them.
Series: Too Far Away [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043193
Comments: 5
Kudos: 6





	1. 忠诚

**Prologue: Loyalty**

Leaving the moderately comforting warmth of the ship's cabin always caused Zuko to take a step back as a blast of icy wind hit him in the face. No matter how many times he led his crew through the South Pole, he would never get used to it. He learned it again, registered it once again in his memory, and decided again that it didn't matter. It wasn't like he cared. 

For once, though, his Uncle had convinced him to stop at a Fire Nation naval base for the night, so that the crew could relax and so that the ship could be looked over. The last thing they wanted was to get stranded in the desolation of the ice and tundra. The base was on the last island to the south that was technically a part of the Earth Kingdom, but wasn't utilized as such because it was really too cold for farming or hunting or living. Too cold, and yet the Fire Nation found a way to use it. Zuko wasn't sure why he was surprised. 

According to Iroh, the naval base was one of the only places Zuko would be welcomed. Iroh had a friend posted there in some position of authority, and since the naval base wasn't technically a legal portion of the Fire Nation, Zuko's exile didn't apply. Plus, it was painfully obvious that Iroh wanted a change of scenery before they ventured into the South Pole again. Zuko didn't want to stop, but he was weary. A single night, he reasoned to himself, wouldn't hurt. It was also obvious that the crew was beyond excited for the change in pace as well. 

The ship docked with no problems. Zuko left the cabin, and that too-familiar icy slap in the face simply deepened his scowl. For a moment, he almost insisted that they continue on into the South Pole, but two crew mates were already lowering the wooden ramp.

"Prince Zuko," called a man standing on the dock as soon as the ramp touched the ice-slick wood. He had long black-and-gray hair that waved around his face like a tempest, and he was standing next to a slim boy that stood slightly taller than him. Zuko noticed that he had a giant smile on his face, which caught him off-guard. "General Iroh! It is an honor that you have stopped at this base."

Iroh descended the ramp first, moving carefully so that it didn't slide around too much. Zuko followed him, careful about where he placed his steps as his Uncle called back. "Vice Admiral Hegu! It is very nice to see you again." At the bottom of the ramp, the two men bowed to each other. "The stories I have heard of your adventures have brought me much entertainment."

The man—Vice Admiral Hegu—laughed. He was wearing the traditional set of Fire Navy uniform, but it looked very different than from what Zuko was used to seeing. Weather-proofed, he imagined. If the Vice Admiral spent most of his time at the base, then mere firebending probably wouldn't be enough to keep him warm all of the time. His skin was several shades darker than Zuko or Iroh's, which also caught him off-guard. "Those are old stories, my friend. Not so suited to the life I lead now. I would, however, love to discuss your own adventures if you have a moment.

Iroh laughed as well, and Zuko wondered for a moment where the two had met. "Perhaps over a game of Pai Sho," said Iroh. "Who is this lovely lady?"

Zuko glanced at the tall boy, confused, and was astounded to all at once realize that he was actually a girl, if he actually looked at the slim cut of her jaw and the feminine but oddly-shaped cut of her dress. Her skin was much darker than even Hegu's. "Ah," said the Vice Admiral. "This is my daughter, Song Lee. She is staying with me at the base right now. She's roughly the young Prince Zuko's age."

She didn't look at any of them. She was staring at their ship. Her eyes, which were the kind of gray Zuko had only seen in storm clouds, were strangely devoid of emotion. "Where did you come from last?" she asked. Her voice was weird; smooth as glass, halting and yet without any trace of inflection or emphasis. 

Everything about her seemed slightly off. Zuko couldn't explain why.

"We have come from a thorough search through the eastern beaches of the Earth Kingdom," Iroh told her. For a moment, Zuko had forgotten all about her question. He watched her carefully as her gaze slid from the ship and turned towards the sky above his Uncle's head. "There was nothing there to be found, other than an excellent case of sunburn for myself."

"Speaking of," said Hegu before anyone could say anything else. "About that game..."

Vice Admiral Hegu led Iroh away from the two teenager still standing on the dock. Song Lee was staring at the wood of the dock. Her shoulders looked like they were angled strangely, and they made her dress seem like it wasn't made for her at all. It was too loose, and she was too tall, and a black cloth belt tied tightly at her waist made the bodice billow over it. It was then that Zuko noticed that she had a sheathed sword attached to the side of the belt. 

"Um," he said, not sure how to handle the situation now that he had been abandoned by his infinitely more social Uncle. "Hi."

"You're the first person my age to stop here in months," Song Lee told him. She still didn't look at him, but her gaze had sharpened. 

"Thanks," he said, completely on instinct, then furiously berated himself about making such a stupid reply.

"It wasn't a complement. Just a fact. I know a lot of those. You know, if you're not careful, my father may try to pair us together. How long are you staying?"

It was then that Zuko decided that he was completely useless at conversation. He had only been talking to her for a minute or so, and he already felt left behind. "Uh, we're leaving tomorrow," he said, not sure how to respond to anything else she had said. 

"Oh, that's too bad." Song Lee looked over him, back at his ship. Zuko blinked in surprise. "I was starting to like you. I know I talk too much. Would you like to meet Tongyi?"

Zuko did not want to meet Tongyi. Well, actually, he didn't really care either way, but talking to Song Lee made him feel unbalanced, and like one false word could send one of them over the side of the dock. Besides, he couldn't get distracted from his mission by strange girls, even if this particular strange girl was the daughter of the Vice Admiral of the Fire Nation Navy and it would probably be very smart to find as many allies as he could in his exile. It didn't matter. Instead of agreeing, he said, "I need to find my Uncle."

"Okay. Your Uncle is probably on that big ship over there—see it? Yeah, that one." She didn't look disappointed. She didn't look _anything._ She bowed to him, and added, "I will see you later, Prince Zuko."

"Okay," he said, and then he walked towards the ship she had pointed out, conscious of the creaking wood under his shoes. When he glanced back towards his own ship, she was gone.

While Zuko watched his Uncle and Vice Admiral Hegu play Pai Sho, he wondered why he hadn't just gone with Song Lee to meet Tongyi after all. Every moment seemed to stretch on, longer and longer, as both men considered the board and each other and what every move told them about the other. Zuko had never understood the appeal of the game, and he was really beginning to think that stopping was a mistake.

As he waited, though, he thought about Song Lee. What was it about her that seemed so off? Her hair, which was as black as the arctic ocean the naval base was situated against, had been tightly braided and coiled against the back of her scalp. It had only emphasized the cut of her jaw and her hollowed cheeks, just like her dress and that cloth belt had emphasized how skinny she was underneath the cloth. And what about that sword? He decided that she probably didn't know how to use it, that it was ceremonial or used to scare less-than-savory men away from her or both. What would be the point in having it otherwise? And who was Tongyi? Was he another old man, like Hegu and Iroh, or was he younger? He couldn't be Song Lee's age; she had said that Zuko was the only person close to her age to set foot on the naval base in months. 

He thought about her wandering eyes again, and decided all at once that he was thinking about her too much.

Finally, after what seemed like centuries, the Pai Sho game ended. Hegu won, which actually was a surprise for Zuko—he had never seen anyone beat Iroh at it before. Iroh didn't seem to mind, though his pleasant smile fell when Hegu announced that he had a lot of work to do and wouldn't be able to join them for dinner. Personally, Zuko didn't mind missing out on spending time with the Vice Admiral, so he said nothing about it as he accompanied Iroh to where Hegu had directed them.

It had not at all occurred to him that Song Lee would be eating with them though her father could not, so one can imagine his surprise when he saw her already seated on the floor at the table in the private dining room, an enormous messenger falcon on her shoulder that seemed to dwarf her thin frame. 

"Hello again," she said before Zuko or Iroh could say anything. She kept her eyes on the falcon. "I thought you might have wanted to meet Tongyi even though you weren't able to earlier." Her voice was still strangely flat, her dress still to large, that sword still attached to her hip.

"Tongyi's a bird?" asked Zuko.

Song Lee smiled, and the light seemed to bend around her for a moment. He hadn't seen her smile before. "Yes," she said. She transferred the falcon onto one of her arms and held him up, and time returned to normal. "My father gave him to me a couple of months ago, when I returned from the Fire Nation. I believe he is so that I can send letters to friends I made. I am sure that he was disappointed when he found out that the only friend I had made was my teacher."

"'Unity,'" said Iroh, and both Zuko and Song Lee looked at him. He was smiling. "That is a beautiful name for such a noble falcon."

"I think so, too," said Song Lee. She smiled again, this time at the table. "I'm not sure where I got the idea. I was going to name him after my father, but my father thought that was weird, and he made me choose something other than another asterism."

Zuko didn't know what an asterism was or what they had to do with anything, but he thought it would be smarter not to ask.

He and his Uncle sat down across from Song Lee and her bird, and Zuko studied Tongyi as servants entered the room and laid platters of food and pots of steaming tea before them. It was a much bigger messenger falcon than Zuko had ever seen before, feathers scarlet and wound through with black and gold coloring. Possibly his most distinctive feature, other than his size, was a wicked scar than ran down his face, over his left eye, and around his beak. He was a fearsome creature, and when Zuko looked into his intact eye, he was unnerved to find that Tongyi seemed to be studying him right back.

"Oh!" said Iroh, snapping Zuko out of his train of thought and causing both teenagers to look at him. "Ginseng tea! Your father has an excellent memory, Song Lee."

"Yes, though he rarely has the time to fully utilize that particular talent," she said. She looked at the teapot that Iroh was holding and asked, "You prefer ginseng over jasmine?"

 _Great,_ though Zuko bitterly. _Yet another person in my life obsessed with tea._

"It's my favorite," said Iroh.

"Oh," she said. "Jasmine's _my_ favorite. I don't drink anything else."

Actually, that didn't really seem like she was obsessed with tea.

"Everyone has different tastes," said Iroh.

"Some people have the _wrong_ taste," she replied, and Zuko caught his Uncle quickly covering up a smile as he began piling food onto his plate.

"Where did Tongyi get that scar?" Zuko asked her before she could talk about tea anymore. 

"We're not sure." Song Lee looked back at her falcon as she transferred him to her other arm. "My father has some theories. I don't really care, though. I have never liked new things as much as I have liked forgotten things. Tongyi is a beautiful bird, I think, and I am very happy to be able to use him, even if I have no one other than my aunt and my teacher to write to."

Despite the scar and the size, Tongyi really was a beautiful falcon.

Zuko started filling up his own plate, noticed that Song Lee had done nothing other than fill up her cup with tea, and decided to ask her another question. He wanted to ask about her sword but thought that it was the wrong thing to talk about. Instead, he asked, "How long have you been back here rather than in the Fire Nation?" 

"Oh," she said, and her eyes got all spacey. "Six months, I think. I'm the only girl here, you know. No one else brings their daughters, no one brings their wives or sisters or mothers. The only man close to my age is twenty, and he spends much more time with his brother than he ever spends with me. Everyone here thinks that I'm annoying."

"I'm sure that's not true," said Iroh, who was already halfway through with his plate.

"No, it is," said Song Lee. She didn't actually seem unhappy with that or anything. It was slightly unnerving. "The only person who can stand me is my father, and he's usually too busy to spend a lot of time with me. I talk too much, and I ask too many questions, and I make too many corrections. If you weren't leaving tomorrow, I'm sure you wouldn't be able to stand me for long, either."

Zuko felt a sad pang echo within him. "Well, I _know_ that's not true," said Iroh, and Zuko pushed the pang down where he would never face it again. "I think you're very welcoming, Song Lee. I enjoy making conversation with you."

Song Lee frowned at the table, and her shoulders tensed. "I don't think that's true," she said after a moment. Her voice was still flat, but it had turned hesitant, calculating. "But I thank you for the sentiment."

"Of course," said Iroh without pressing further.

Instead, he struck up a conversation about the meal. Zuko watched in a thoughtful silence as Iroh and Song Lee discussed the designs of the plates, the quality of the food, the preferences of the cook, and countless other subjects, excluding anything about tea. Song Lee did indeed talk a great deal, and she had a lot to say, too. Her voice remained slightly raised and consistently devoid of emotion, which reminded him startlingly of Mai. At the same time, though, it was completely different. Mai had spoken like nothing in the world could possibly interest her. Song Lee spoke in a way that made Zuko think that she had figured out everything there was to figure out about the secret workings of the world, but that she had so much to say that she had no time to convey emotion—and like she didn't quite know how, anyway.

No matter what she sounded like, though, Zuko found himself hanging onto every word she said.

After the meal (during which Zuko noticed that she didn't eat a thing), Song Lee stood and bowed to Zuko and Iroh, thanking them for their time. Her voice took on a stiff quality, as if she had rehearsed many times beforehand. Afterwards, she took Tongyi and left, mentioning that she had something important to take care of but seemed to forget to tell them exactly what. Iroh left soon after she did, confessing that he was exhausted, but Zuko did not feel tired at all. During dinner, the sun had set, and dock was practically abandoned, probably because it became even colder outside after dark. He left the ship, not minding the slap of the wind for once. He wandered aimlessly, looking at the vastness of the sky, which was clear of clouds and heavy with stars. It was only at the Poles that the stars seemed to stand out to the degree that they did.

It was as his thoughts were wandering, catching briefly on observations about Song Lee and mental notes about the stars, that he ran into Vice Admiral Hegu. 

"Prince Zuko," he said, bowing deeply. "I am sorry, I didn't notice you. What can I help you with?"

"Song Lee," Zuko blurted out before he could stop himself. Hegu straightened and stared at him questioningly, and Zuko flushed. "Song Lee," he said again. "Um... What's..." He didn't know how to phrase what he wanted to ask. That off-ness, that strangeness in demeanor and words...

"What's wrong with her?" Hegu finished for him.

That didn't sound right. Zuko didn't actually think that anything was wrong with her. But he didn't know how else to phrase what he wanted to ask, so he nodded. 

Hegu sighed and seemed to sag. His eyes, which were the color of a great forest rather than a great storm, grew suddenly weary. "When Song Lee was born," he said, "I thought that everything was perfect. I had wanted a child for such a long time. Her mother was disappointed that she was a girl, but I couldn't have been happier. I... I don't know. When she was two, maybe three, we noticed that she wasn't behaving... Well, like a normal two or three year old. We took her to a couple of different doctors. One told us she was going to die, which obviously didn't happen, but... One of them, he told us that she had something called a mental disorder. Nothing could be done to help or cure her. Her mother was devastated."

Zuko didn't know how to reply to any of that. 

Hegu sighed again, and then he added, "You need to understand, Prince Zuko, that Song is one of the smartest people you will ever meet, and she's barely seventeen, and I know that she can seem abrasive and emotionless, but..."

"Yeah."

"I love her more than anything in this world."

Zuko went silent. He had never seen anyone love another person like that. He had never seen such an unconditional love from a father to a child, and that sad pang from earlier came back, only it was much stronger at that point.

"Okay," he said, his voice quiet as he tried to stamp that feeling down again. "Thank you."

Hegu watched him for a moment. "Of course, Your Highness," he said, and then he hesitated. "If you would allow me to make a suggestion..." He paused again.

"Yeah?"

"I would highly recommend the highest floor of the supply tower to the north of the base. That way. It is... Very beautiful this time of evening."

"Oh," said Zuko. "Um, okay."

Hegu bowed again, and then he walked away. He moved like a man who was beginning to strain under the weight of too many tasks. Zuko turned and moved north, towards the supply tower. What else did he have to do, really?

The supply tower was shaped like a hexagon from the top, and it was about as tall as it was wide. There were a couple of doors, but one of them was already propped open with a rounded stone between the corner of the door and the frame. When he pushed it open all the way, the door brushed against the bottom step of a narrow stairwell. He glanced behind him, and noting that no one was following him, started up the creaking stairs, into the darkness. Up three stories he went, and the tower was silent except for the wind outside the walls and the steps he took.

At the top of the stairwell, another door waited. This one was opened all the way instead of merely propped partially open, and he hesitated outside of it, quieting his steps and glancing inside the room, wary of finding anyone else there.

The room was almost completely empty, which Zuko thought was unusual for a supply tower. The room followed the hexagonal structure of the room, and a window was set into each of the six walls. The room was frigidly chilly, which was probably because one of the windows was propped open. The only things there were a chair and a telescope. And, sitting on the chair, practically glued to the chair, was Song Lee. 

Zuko continued to hesitate, still watching. Song Lee was completely still, and for a moment, Zuko was sure that the cold had frozen her in place, but then she muttered something under her breath, and she smiled. She adjusted a gear on the side of the telescope, froze again, and finally pulled away. It was then that she noticed Zuko hovering in the doorway.

He opened his mouth to say something, but his voice died before it even made it through his throat. Her face was blanketed in shadow and barely highlighted by starlight, and her storm-gray eyes were wide and filled with... He didn't know. He didn't know what they were filled with. It was the first time she was looking him directly in the eye, and it felt like he had lost his ability to do anything at all. Her coiled obsidian hair glinted in the moonlight, and for a moment, she looked completely unguarded and surprised.

"Prince Zuko," she said, and he jumped. Her voice was softer than usual, but it was still slightly louder than he thought it had to be. "I didn't think that you'd make your way up here. I don't have Tongyi with me if that's what you were hoping for."

"Um, no." His voice was even more hoarse than usual.

"This is what I do every night that I am here," she said, pushing her hand of the side of the telescope. Her hands curved around the gears, careful not to touch them. "The night sky is very intriguing this far south. It's almost completely different from the starscapes in the Fire Nation or the North Pole."

"You've been to the North Pole?"

"We didn't visit the Northern Water Tribe, but my father was on a top-secret scouting mission that I'm not supposed to tell anyone about, and he brought me along." She pressed her eye back against the telescope. "That was right before I began studying in the Fire Nation. The stars are breathtaking there." A pause. "They're breathtaking here, too, but I'm mostly used to them."

"How long have you had that telescope?"

She shrugged, not looking away from it. "I've only had this one for about a year—it was a gift from my teacher—but I got the old one when I was..." She trailed off, and Zuko waited, but it was a long moment before she said, "Ten."

She paused again. 

"You can come further in, you know," she told him. She still didn't look up. "I'm not going to harm you. I don't think I could, anyway. I can't bend, and you could hurl fire at my face before I could even draw my sword."

His eyes wandered back to the sword at her hip. "I'm not going to harm you, either," he said, moving a little bit closer. 

Song Lee pulled away and stood, offering her chair to him. He didn't want to take her seat away from her, but she had already readjusted the telescope and was sitting on her knees. Her dress pooled around her, and a journal he hadn't noticed before that moment was laid on the ground next to her. The sword pulled at her belt as it pressed against the floor, but she didn't seem to notice.

He sat down, careful not to accidentally brush against her. 

"After you're gone," she said, once again without looking up, "could I write to you?"

Zuko was caught completely off guard, and for a moment he couldn't think of a single comprehensible answer.

The silence grew while Zuko pulled his thoughts together, but Song Lee made no effort to fill it. Instead, she pulled away from the telescope and pulled the journal into her lap. She flipped through the pages, and he noticed that though it had some actual written entries, it was mostly filled with pictures of the sky containing carefully labeled stars and constellations. 

"Why do you like stars so much?" he asked.

If she was irritated by his lack of an answer to her own question, she didn't show it. "The word's _astronomy,"_ she said. "When I was really little, I only went outside when it was dark outside because the sunlight really hurt my eyes. I thought that the stars were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I still do, actually. I tried again and again to count all of them, but I never even got close. My aunt likes astronomy, too, you know. She told me a lot about them, helped me trace the asterisms. It took me a while to learn how to read, a lot longer than a lot of other kids my age, but I got hooked on every astronomy text I could find." She stopped, looked back through the telescope, and said, "I don't know _why_ I like them, though. I just know that I do."

"Of course you can write," said Zuko. "To me."

She pulled away from the telescope, and though she didn't quite look at him, her smile was obvious. The shadows made the light seem even stranger than it had at dinner. Her smile disappeared, and she nodded solemnly and said, "That's good. My father will be pleased." She adjusted the telescope and offered it to him to look through. He hesitantly accepted, looking up at the stars. They were dazzling. "My father's named after an asterism. Did you know that?"

"What's an asterism?"

"It's like a constellation."

"Oh. No. Which one?"

Song Lee stood next to him, looked through the telescope, and adjusted it again. "It's harder to see this far south, but it's that one. See that triangle?"

"Yeah."

"Trace it down. 'Hegu.' I wish I'd gotten an asterism name; that would be so much better than 'Song Lee.'"

"But I think your name is fine," said Zuko, looking away from the telescope. 

She didn't scoff, but it was a close thing. She crossed her arms and looked through the window and said, "Unlikely. I was named after both my aunt and my _grandfather."_

Zuko smiled, then. It had been a long time since he had been so relaxed, focused on anything other than the search for the Avatar. 

Song Lee and Zuko spent a long time in that room, alone with the night sky and Song Lee's telescope. They kept talking, Zuko kept letting himself smile. And for a while, everything was almost perfect.


	2. Hey, How Have You Been?

**The First Letter**

_The first letter arrived the day after Zuko and Iroh had left the naval base._

_As the battleship entered the South Pole, it was a rare moment in which Zuko left the main deck. He didn't care about the frigid air or the endless sky or the countless glaciers and cliffs of ice. His Uncle often joined him, usually with a pot of tea that Zuko refused to have some of._

_Truthfully, he didn't expect to find the Avatar in the South Pole. He had been there before, on almost the exact same passage through, and there had been nothing then. Despite knowing this, he felt like every moment was slipping away from him, that he would always look in the wrong place and it would always be the wrong time. For all he knew, the Avatar had already returned. The thought made him want to blast a hole in the side of one of the glaciers they were meticulously working around._

_It was as Zuko was standing on the deck, his knuckles white from his grip of the side of the ship and his fingers numb from the freezing metal, that Tongyi found him._

_Zuko looked up as Tongyi circled the ship, and squared his shoulders as the falcon dove down and landed on his left shoulder. It was obviously Tongyi; between the size, scar, and coloring, Song Lee's falcon was very distinctive._

_He brought Tongyi inside, noticing but ignoring his Uncle's smile. His cheeks flushed as the warmth of the inside of the ship washed over him. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to spend all of his time in the cold, he reasoned as he made his way to his room. Once he made it there, he murmured a "Hello," to Tongyi while he slipped the letter out of his carrier and unfurled it with fingers that were still stiff but weren't completely numb anymore._

**Prince Zuko,** _it started._

**A full day has passed since you left the naval base as I write this letter. When Tongyi delivers it, it will have been a little longer. I am aware that it has not been much time, and that you may find my lack of patience irritating. If that is the case, I hope you will excuse my apology now.**

**My father is pleased that I'm finally writing to someone other than my aunt and my teacher, especially because you are my age. I do not care what he thinks, but I am pleased that you allowed me to remain in contact with you. I am also pleased about Tongyi's change in behavior. I think he is pleased that he doesn't have to sulk in my room or fly the long distance to the Fire Nation. However, I cannot really be sure what he is feeling, as I cannot speak Falcon. If I could, I would certainly ask him what he wishes to do.**

_Zuko smiled at that. It felt odd on his face._

**This is not a long letter. My father thinks that sending a long first letter is a bad idea, and though I do not care what he thinks, I am sure that he knows a great deal more about people than I do, and I do not wish to risk scaring you off. If you want to reply, you can send it back with Tongyi. The naval base is not too far away from your current position, as it has only been a day.**

**As my teacher has taught me to end any letter I write, even if it is a lie:**

**I eagerly await your reply.**

**Song Lee**

_Zuko read the letter through a couple times more. The characters she'd written in were simple and almost as distinctive as the falcon that had carried them; her handwriting was small and cramped and slanted across the paper._

_He reached out and tried to scratch the top of Tongyi's hand, though he recoiled when he tried to bit his finger. He let himself take a moment to scowl at the bird, and then he readied a fresh piece of parchment, an inkwell, and a brush._

* * *

Home.

After three years of tracking the Avatar with neither rest nor reprieve, Zuko was finally going home.

He could admit that the news came as a shock to him. He could admit that he would have preferred to hear the news from someone other than Azula. He could even admit that his Uncle's reluctance could be justified. Despite all of that, the thought of being welcomed home made him feel lighter than air. He didn't smile, but he felt like everything was finally coming together.

Almost. His focus turned back towards Iroh a couple of times. The lighter-than-air feeling would recede when that happened, making way for the familiar stomach-in-knots feelings. 

In his head, he was already drafting a letter to Song Lee to tell her about everything that was happening.

As Zuko made his way down the mountain and away from the waterfall village, his bag heavy on his shoulder, he turned his gaze towards the Fire Nation ship that was going to bring him home. He was more than eager to leave the Earth Kingdom behind, and the sight of the familiar flags made his the knotting stomach feeling come back, even though his knees went weak with relief. He paused for a moment, staring over the ocean. How long would it take to get home? How long until he could see his father?

"Wait!" he heard from behind him. Zuko wheeled around, and his stomach unknotted when he saw Iroh running down the steps towards him, his own bag in hand. "Don't leave without me!"

Finally, Zuko let himself smile. "Uncle! You've changed your mind!"

"Family sticks together, right?" asked Iroh, smiling right back.

Together, they looked back at the ship. Zuko felt lighter than air again. He knew, then, that everything was going to be okay.

"We're finally going home," he said, more to himself than to Iroh.

Side by side, the two of them descended the stairs.

Waiting for them on the dock was four files of soldiers, twice as many as Zuko expected to find. He wondered if the rumors of assassination were a problem for the entire royal family, rather than just the Fire Lord. The sight made him a little uneasy, but he wasn't sure why. In times of treachery, wasn't that normal? 

Azula was waiting on the deck at the top of the ramp, a guard to either side of her. Her smile made him uneasy, too, but her smile always made him uneasy, so he pushed that away, too. 

She raised her arms and bowed. "Brother! Uncle!" she said. They bowed, too. "Welcome. I'm so glad you decided to come."

Zuko straightened, and behind him, two of the files left the side of the dock while the other two remained on the perimeter. Iroh shifted beside him. Zuko stared at his sister, searching for any sign of dishonesty. He found nothing.

"Are we ready to depart, your highness?" asked a man from behind Azula. He reminded Zuko of a paler, shorter Vice Admiral Hegu. The thought was suddenly amusing to him, but he covered up his smile quickly.

"Set a course for home, Captain," said Azula, her voice light and spirited.

"Home," said Zuko, suddenly relaxing. His unease vanished. The extra guards were extra security, his Uncle's paranoia nothing more than paranoia. His journey was over, and he would never need to worry about hunting down the Avatar again. He could relax. He could see his father again. He could see Mai again. He could finally sail to Vice Admiral Hegu's naval base and arrest the cook and see Song Lee and her father again. Everything would be perfectly fine.

Zuko and Iroh started up the ramp, ready to board. Zuko thought about Song Lee. When he saw her again, would she go over the night sky with him again? She hadn't written since he'd sent the reply to her tenth letter, but that had admittedly only been a couple of days ago. Of course Tongyi wouldn't return for weeks. What would he ask her next about the stars? He was intrigued about what she thought about life in the stars. Maybe he'd ask her to elaborate.

"You heard the princess!" he heard the captain call, though he wasn't really paying attention. "Raise the anchors!" He was pulled from his thoughts, however, when he said, "We're taking the prisoners to—" before he cut himself off.

Azula's face pinched up, and Zuko wavered. She looked at the captain. If a glance could kill, the man would be melting at her feet.

"Your Highness," he said. "I..."

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Zuko felt like he was drowning.

In the next moment, Iroh flew into action, whirling into the guards behind him and engaging them in combat. Zuko heard splashes as some of them hit the water, and then Zuko helped disarm one of the ones who made it past Iroh before he charged up the ramp towards his smug, deceitful little sister. 

"You lied to me!" he roared. Everything was falling down around him.

"Like I've never done that before," she said. She didn't seem threatened at all. In fact, she turned her back on him and walked away, and the guards flanking her shot mighty blasts of fire at him.

He brushed the fire away and attacked, screaming as he let his raw, unadulterated rage control him.

The girl watched the beginning of the battle, crouched in the relative safety and shadows of the harbor. Her eyes followed General Iroh as he did his best to fight off four ranks of guards while Prince Zuko did his best to defeat the over-talented Princess Azula. The firebending forms that the siblings displayed in combat, we beyond impressive, and the girl found her eyes widening as Princess Azula shot a blast of blue fire at her brother.

She was itching to aid Prince Zuko in combat, but it was General Iroh that really needed her help. He was fighting a losing battle, even if his age and talents made him a much better bender than any of the soldiers. It was clear that her letter had been intercepted. Princess Azula had known that she would be there. That was not a comforting thought. It was possible that General Iroh would have been able to hold his own against two ranks, and she was sure he would have, but four ranks was simply too many. He was going to get overwhelmed.

So the girl drew her hood over the top of her head, and she made sure her mask was placed comfortably over her nose and mask, careful to to smudge her painted face. A moment later, her sword was in her hand, and she was in the thick of battle.

Azula's voice echoed over and over in Zuko's head as he struggled to clear his head. His sight had gone blurry after he'd hit his head. He could hear the sounds of combat on the dock. 

_"He considers you a miserable failure for not finding the Avatar."_

_"Why would he want you back home, except to lock you up where you can no longer embarrass him?"_

_"Why would he want you back home?"_

Even though everything was blurry, he saw Azula approach him. Blue arched through the air around her body, and his breath caught and vision focused all at once when he realized that it was lightning.

He was going to _die_.

Without warning, Iroh appeared next to Azula. He grabbed her hands and claimed her lightning as his, and then Zuko watched with eyes as wide as ever as his Uncle redirected it into an cliff with a thunderous _BOOM._

Zuko struggled to stand. There were still sounds of combat raging on the dock, and with Iroh in front of him, the sounds could not be explained. He took his eyes off of his Uncle and sister for a split second to see who on Earth the rest of the Fire Nation soldiers were fighting.

For a moment, he could see nothing through the crowd of soldiers. Then, a group of them got knocked into the water, and the rest of them back up just enough for him to catch a full image of a single person in flight, a longsword that caught the light of the sun in their hand. He blinked and they weren't in flight, instead engaged in a battle of sword and fire. And they were winning. It was obvious that they weren't a bender, and they were dressed entirely in black, and they had a mask over the bottom half of their face and a hood over their hair.

A split second later, Zuko made eye contact with them. 

He was too far away to make out the color of their eyes or skin, but he could see that a dark wing painted under the swordsman's eye. 

Zuko turned his attention back to his Uncle and sister. Iroh tossed Azula over the side, and in the next instant, the two of them were running down the ramp. They had to escape. When they reached the bottom, though, the swordsman sheathed his sword, kicked on last soldier into the water, and then dove into the ocean on the other side of the dock. Zuko was at the side in an instant, but the swordsman was gone, and Iroh pulled on his arm, and they kept running as far away as the Fire Nation ship that had tried to take them prisoner as possible after taking care of the remaining soldiers. The swordsman had thinned the ranks tremendously. 

"Who was that?" yelled Zuko as they went.

"I don't know," Iroh replied, chest heaving as they ran up the stairs. "How should I know?"

They didn't speak again, silently agreeing to save their breath and discuss the swordsman later.

Finally, after what felt like they had run the length of the Fire Nation, they stopped and collapsed to their knees, fighting to catch their breath. They were next to a stream, and the whispers of water tumbling over stones helped ease Zuko's frantic mind long enough for him to organize his thoughts. 

"I think we're safe now," said Iroh.

Zuko said nothing in reply. It was one thing to suffer the humiliation of exile after the defeat of the Agni Kai. It was another thing entirely to be betrayed like he had been. 

_Why would he want you back home?_ Azula had asked.

He sighed. At this point, he doubted he would ever be accepted back home, even if he did somehow manage to capture the Avatar. 

Zuko turned his mind back to the other problem he was facing, procrastinating what he knew he had to do.

"Who was that?" he asked again, his mind turned back towards the swordsman. He remembered the wing under his eye. What had it meant?

"I don't know," Iroh repeated. "I truly wish I did so that I could think him. I would not have managed to fight off the soldiers on my own, and if he had not appeared, I may not have been able to make it to you in time to redirect Princess Azula's lightning. You might have been dead right now."

Zuko considered this. He didn't think that the swordsman was a threat to him and his Uncle, but the sight of the unforgiving sword in his hand made Zuko decide that he was a dangerous man.

"Do you think it could have been the Blue Spirit?" asked Iroh.

Zuko glanced at his Uncle. "No," he said, his voice sharp. He cleared his throat and added, "The Blue Spirit uses dual broadswords, not a longsword. Besides, I don't think the Blue Spirit would take up a different mask."

Iroh shrugged and said no more about it.

With another sigh, Zuko drew the knife that Iroh had given him from his pocket. He could procrastinate no longer, but he did his best, anyway. He gently traced his fingers over the characters pressed into the metal, and then he glanced at his Uncle.

He nodded.

Without another word, Zuko took the knife in one hand and what was left of his hair in the other, and then he severed his ponytail from his head.

He handed it to Iroh, who did the same with his own topknot. Together, the two took the discarded hair and dropped it into the stream. They watched as they drifted down, towards the ocean.

Absurdly, Zuko's mind was still drafting a letter to Song Lee. He hoped that Tongyi found them soon.


	3. Since You Let In

**Song Lee,** _began Zuko's reply._

**Your letters are accepted whenever you send them. I don't find it irritating that you sent the letter, so I don't accept your apology. After leaving the naval base, I have continued searching for the Avatar. It has continued to be an unsuccessful search, but as you wrote in your letter, it has only been a little over a day.**

**Tongyi tried to bite me. Is that normal? Does he ever try to bite you? If you ever do end up learning Falcon, please let him know that I don't appreciate almost being bitten while I try to read your letter. Also, what do falcons eat?**

**I don't care how long your letters are. The days are long on this ship, and there's little to do other than meditate or sulk in my own room, like Tongyi. It's not like I have anyone else to write to, either. Plus, I can promise that I'll always do my best to reply to your letters.**

_He didn't know what else to write. He felt like his reply was missing a fundamental element that he was just missing. Finally, he just shook his head and signed his name at the end of the letter, wondering if it was okay that it was so brief._

**I await your reply,**

**Zuko**

_He thought it would be better not to add his title. He didn't think that Song Lee would mind._

_After the letter was dry, he rolled it up and looked to Tongyi, who was still waiting patiently for him. Zuko slid the letter into the falcon's carrier, careful to avoid his beak. "Thanks," he told him, and then felt stupid for talking to a bird. He could almost imagine Tongyi rolling his intact eye at him._

_Tongyi willingly hopped onto Zuko's offered arm, and the two of them returned to the deck. The cold air wasn't as refreshing as it had been before he'd gotten Song Lee's letter, and he decided he was just going to go back inside after he sent Tongyi off. He launched Tongyi into the air, and the bird hovered in the air for a moment before circling the ship once and flying north. Towards Song Lee._

_Zuko watched him until he disappeared, and then he turned and made his way back to his room. He wanted to read her letter again._

* * *

"I didn't find anything to eat!" yelled Zuko, struggling to extract himself from a bush he'd gotten stuck in. Once he managed it, he added, "I can't live like this. I wasn't meant to be a fugitive." He kicked the ground. "This is impossible!"

Zuko looked at his Uncle, already expecting to hear some long-winded speech about the joy of nature or something stupid like that. Instead, Iroh was crouched down in front of a flowering shrub. He said nothing, choosing in the place of words to sniff deeply at one of the flowers.

It had been a couple of days since they had escaped Azula, and they were struggling to provide for themselves. Zuko had taken to scavenging, which was a lot harder than he'd thought it would be. Iroh hadn't done much at all, other than set up and break down camps and campfires. 

Iroh said, "I wonder if Song Lee would know what to do in a situation such as this."

"What do you keep bringing her up for?" asked Zuko. When Iroh didn't reply again, he asked. "What are you doing?"

Iroh smiled and said, "You're looking at a rare White Dragon bush. Its leaves make a tea so delicious, it's heartbreaking!"

Zuko didn't know anything at all about heartbreaking teas, so he didn't know how to reply. That was when Iroh added, "That, or it's the White Jade bush, which is poisonous."

Whatever the case, Zuko decided that his Uncle needed to sort out his priorities. "We need food, not tea," he said.

"I wonder if Song Lee would know the difference between a White Dragon and a White Jade."

Zuko groaned. "I'm going fishing."

Not that he knew how to fish. But, really, it couldn't be that hard. It had to be easier than scavenging, anyway.

"Delectable tea?" he heard his Uncle say as he stalked off. "Or deadly poison?"

Though he knew Iroh couldn't be _that_ stupid, Zuko hoped that his Uncle didn't kill himself while he was gone.

It was, in fact, that hard.

Zuko had gone fishing for what felt like hours, and all he had managed to catch was an itty-bitty fish that was about as long as his hand was wide. He had no idea what it was called, nor did he care. It hardly mattered, and besides, it wasn't his fault that he was so bad at fishing; he'd never been before, and it wasn't like a prince should be fishing, anyway.

That's what he told himself. It didn't make him feel better.

As he made his way back towards his Uncle, he was already formulating what part of the experience he should complain about. However, once he made it to the clearing, he didn't get the chance to open his mouth before Iroh said, "Zuko, remember that plant I thought might be tea?"

Zuko's eyes widened. "You didn't!" he said. 

"I did." Iroh turned around, and Zuko reeled back in horror at the sight of his Uncle's red, terrifically swollen face. "And it wasn't."

For a moment, as Zuko watched Iroh scratch at the countless red welts that covered his body, an indecipherable noise left his mouth that couldn't even come close to the amount of disgust he wanted to convey. 

"When the rash spreads to my throat, I will stop breathing," said Iroh, his voice calm despite the situation. His face lifted as he held up a handful or red berries and added, "But look what I found! These are bacui berries, known to cure the poison of the White Jade plant." He grinned. "That, or macahoni berries that cause blindness."

"We're not taking anymore chances with these plants!" yelled Zuko. He was sick of being trapped in the clutches of nature, sick of avoiding people, sick of his Uncle being so unforgivably stupid. "We need to get help."

"But where are we going to go? We're enemies of the Earth Kingdom, and fugitives from the Fire Nation."

Iroh had a point. The same thought had spent hours being mulled over in Zuko's mind. He was used to solving these sorts of problems; you had to be if you were doing your best to track down the Avatar. This time, though, he didn't know what to do. He felt stuck. "If the Earth Kingdom discovers us, they'll have us killed," he said, more to himself than his Uncle.

"But if the Fire Nation discovers us, we'll be handed over to Azula," replied Iroh.

It was an easy decision to make when you thought about it like that. Zuko and Iroh nodded at each other. "Earth Kingdom it is," said Zuko. Anything to avoid his little sister.

"You must not be from around here," said the nurse as she rubbed a clay-based healing ointment (that's what she had called it, anyway) over Iroh's swelling. "We know better than to touch the White Jade, much less make it into tea and drink it."

Iroh shifted, laughed, and said, "Whoops!" He avoided Zuko's glare. 

"So, where are you traveling from?"

"Yes, we're travelers," said Zuko, standing quickly. He didn't answer the actual question. He didn't feel like he needed to.

The nurse glanced at him. Her hair was long and dark, pulled into a tight braid that fell down her back, a little bit like Ty Lee's. "Do you have names?" she asked him.

"Names," said Zuko. "Of course we have names." What on Earth was he supposed to say? He couldn't tell the truth. "I'm..." What would Song Lee do? "Lee."

Iroh cringed.

Zuko glared at him again, mind still racing. "And this is my Uncle, uh... Mushi."

Iroh glared right back. "Yes," he told the nurse, "but my nephew was named after his father, so we just call him Junior."

Zuko clenched his fists, unable to retaliate without raising the nurse's suspicions. 

"Mushi and Junior, huh? My name is Song."

Before she could say anything else, Iroh let out a sharp laugh that made Zuko jump. "Song and Lee!" he said, a giant grin on his face. He cleared his throat when he noticed that Song and Zuko were both staring at him, and added, "Um, a friend of ours was named Song Lee. I think you would like her."

Zuko shook his head, and Song said, "Oh, that's funny. We have a girl named Song Lee staying at my house right now." Zuko and Iroh exchanged a wide-eyed glance. "I think she's a family friend. It's kind of confusing with our names being so similar, but we don't mind!" Iroh shook his head. _A different person,_ it communicated. Song turned and swatted Iroh's scratching hands away from his face. "Anyway, you two look like you could use a good meal. Why don't you stay for dinner?"

"Sorry," said Zuko before Iroh could say anything, "but we need to be moving on."

To where, he still wasn't sure.

"That's too bad. My mom always makes too much roast duck."

Zuko closed his eyes, suppressing a sigh. That was it. They were staying, and there was nothing he could do about it. Roast duck was one of Iroh's favorites. 

"Where do you live, exactly?" he heard his Uncle ask.

The sunlight filtered through the leaves of the trees lining the pathway, turning the ground into a dappled carpet of shadows in the fading light. The otherwise peaceful atmosphere was disrupted by the angry stomping of Zuko on the path as he trailed after Song the nurse and his Uncle. He would have had a shouting match with Iroh if it hadn't been for the watchful eye of Song the nurse.

Song's house came into view before long, and from afar it was obvious that there were two people waiting on the porch. Zuko couldn't see that far. He just saw a white blob and a black blob. He let Song walk ahead, waving at the blobs, while he pulled Iroh back. "We can't just accept food from whoever offers it," he whispered, his scowl so deep-set on his face that his jaw ached. "Someone's going to recognize us eventually. We need to _avoid_ people. Remember the death-or-Azula conversation?"

"Of course I remember the death-or-Azula conversation," said Iroh, who wasn't talking very loud but was certainly not whispering. He seemed about as calm as an untouched lake. "As I remember it, _Junior,_ you were the one complaining about how you couldn't live like a fugitive. People who aren't fugitives accept friendly invitations to roast duck dinners."

Zuko's scowl deepened further, and he gave no reply. The two of them had just started walking again when Iroh stopped again, this time causing his nephew to run into him. "What are you doing?" asked Zuko.

Instead of replying, Iroh gasped and said, "Oh my goodness!" Then, before Zuko could ask what had happened, Iroh broke into a trot, moving towards the blobs that were Song and the other two people.

Zuko hurried after his uncle and watched in confusion as he immediately approached the dark blob, and then he made it just close enough to clearly see Song and the others. Her mother was completely unfamiliar, but the boy—or the girl dressed in black tight-fitting clothes cut for boys—was instantly recognizable.

The sight of her face felt like he'd knocked the wind out of his lungs.

"You must be Mushi and Junior," said the girl, bowing to him and his Uncle. She had changed a lot in the months since he had seen her, but she was still the same person. When she straightened, Zuko was reminded of the exact shade of storm-cloud gray of Song Lee's eyes as she took in the sight of his barely-grown hair and Iroh's welts. "It's nice to meet you."

Song the nurse, her mother, and Iroh made their way inside after a brief exchange of small talk. Before Song Lee could follow, however, Zuko grabbed her arm. "What are you doing here?" he asked her after they were alone, his voice low. He had successfully pushed away that light-as-air feeling he'd experienced as soon as he'd recognized her and focused more on the ever-present burning anger in his blood, ignoring his confusion and relief and joy to the best of his ability.

"Are you angry with me?" she asked without lowering her voice at all. She had looked away from his hair, and her eyes, which were as wide as ever, were focused on the pattern of his shirt. The wind rugged at her hair, which was far shorter than it had been when he'd seen her last, barely reaching the top of her ears.

"You shouldn't be here. We're obviously in the middle of a situation. How do you know the nurse? Why aren't you..." He trailed off, and then he sighed loudly. She glanced up to meet his gaze, and he blinked rapidly, overwhelmed for an instant, before she looked away again, this time at the top of his coolie hat. "Why are you here?"

"When Tongyi didn't return, I got worried. I knew you were in the Earth Kingdom, so I arranged for Song and her family to allow me to stay here while I searched for you. Her mother's in regular correspondence with my aunt."

"How long have you been here?"

"Less than a week. I was gone for two days when I went to look through that village on the waterfall you mentioned, but you weren't there. Didn't you get my letter?"

Zuko shook his head, fighting to clear it from the many nonessential questions that threatened to spill over. "The tenth letter?" he asked. "Of course I got it. I replied to that one, remember?"

"No, the eleventh letter."

"There wasn't an eleventh letter."

Song Lee stilled—she'd been shifting restlessly a moment before, so the change was startling—and she looked him in the eye again. "What?" she asked, and her brows creased. It was the most emotion he had ever seen on her face at one time.

Zuko swallowed heavily, completely still himself. "Tongyi didn't deliver an eleventh letter," he said, fighting to keep his voice clear and gentle. She shifted her weight back, and her eyes flickered towards the forest. "I'm sorry. I... was he doing well?"

"Of course," she said. "He had the equivalent of a falcon's feast before he left, which provided enough energy that he should have been back..." She trailed off, and he expected her to say more, but she didn't.

"What happened to you?" he asked instead.

He was referring, of course, to her appearance. She'd cut all of her hair off and changed her clothing style completely. Instead of an awkward-fitting dress, she was wearing black trousers and a wide-sleeved coat that had obviously been made with a man in mind. She still had the ceremonial sword sheathed and strapped to a cloth belt that cinched her coat to her narrow abdomen, and with her new outfit the sword seemed much more dangerous. 

It was obvious to him in that moment that the reason the dress had seemed to fit her so awkwardly was because she was downright scrawny, made of far more angles than curves. If it hadn't been for the distinctive cut of her jaw and the time he'd already spent with her at her father's naval base, he would have mistaken her for a boy about his age.

"I traveled here to find you and your Uncle," she said, misunderstanding his question. "I didn't think it would be _this_ easy. After you weren't in the waterfall village, I thought I would have to track you."

Zuko didn't know how to respond to that.

"I'm sure Tongyi will be fine," said Song Lee after a moment, before he could come up with a coherent response. "Why are _you_ here?"

He sighed and leaned back against one of the banisters holding up the roof of the porch. "We're on the run," he told her, lowering her voice again in case Song the nurse or her mother were somehow listening. "The Earth Kingdom wants us dead, and my father wants us captured."

"Captured?" asked Song Lee without bothering to lower her voice at all, which made him Zuko cringe. "Why?"

"Turns out I bring them too much embarrassment," he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm that he knew Song Lee probably wasn't going to pick up on. "I came so close to finally capturing the Avatar, but it’s not enough. My father wants me out of the way, so he sent Azula to get us."

"Your sister."

"Yes."

"And she listened to him?"

"Azula has always hated me," he said. "She's a monster."

Song Lee hummed. Her gaze remained set on the trees, but her eyes went unfocused, flickering back and forth. She turned her body to face the forest, leaning down on the porch railing. He hesitantly copied her movement, and as the silence grew and he gazed at the darkening forest, he felt fatigue and sadness creep up through his body, even if he was beyond relieved to see a familiar face.

"The roast duck is really very good, I think," she said at last, making him jump. Her gaze had focused. "Your Uncle will be pleased."

Zuko's lips pricked up at the very corners, highly against his will. "It's his fault we're here, anyway."

"Thank goodness for his poisonous tea and appetite, then," she said. "Maybe he should just stick to jasmine." With that, she straightened up, so Zuko did, too. She turned to move back inside, but she stood still while she said, "I'm happy to see you again." She didn't smile or look at him or do anything, really, but he knew she meant it.

She walked inside. 

Zuko didn't know what to sat to that, either, so with one glance back towards the forest, he swallowed heavily and followed her inside.

"Thank you for the duck," said Iroh to Song the nurse's mother. "It was excellent.

"You're welcome," she replied. She handed him a package of what Zuko assumed was leftovers. "It brings me joy to see someone eat my cooking with such... gusto."

"Much practice," said Iroh, patting his stomach with a smile on his face. 

From next to Zuko, Song Lee shifted her posture again.

Iroh had made up some excuse as to how they knew Song Lee, and then she came up with her own excuse on why she was set out to accompany Zuko and Iroh on their journey, which neither of them had expected at all. Both had tried to pull her aside and talk her out of it, but nothing could be done against her stubborn will. 

"Song Lee," said Song the nurse's mother, her voice warm as she stepped forward and held Song Lee's hands in a tight grip. He noticed that she straightened up at the touch. "I hope that we'll see you again. I've already sent your aunt word of your journey. I wish you well."

"Your kindness has brought me much stability and contentment," said Song Lee, her voice no more emotional than normal. "For that, I thank you."

The woman hummed and released Song Lee's hands, and Zuko watched as she relaxed again, only to tense completely when the woman said, "Again, I'm very sorry about your father."

"Thank you," she repeated, though this time her voice had changed. The new quality of it, which Zuko had never heard before, made him want to shiver. She placed a hand on the hilt of the sword.

Zuko turned to leave, his mind already filling with more questions. What had happened to her father? He remembered the victory in Zhao's tone when he had been promoted to Admiral, remembered the confusion he'd felt about Vice Admiral Hegu's own position. Had Hegu been the one to give the ceremonial sword to her?

He remembered Zhao's exact words: _"Hegu is... unable to take up a new post at the moment."_

Or had Song Lee told a false story about her father to Song the nurse and her mother to allow her to stay with them?

"Junior," said Iroh, stopping Zuko and his thoughts. "Where are your manners? You need to thank these nice people."

Zuko forced himself to turn back and bow, ignoring the impatience in his chest that was mostly directed towards his Uncle. "Thank you," he said before he turned away again. 

"I know you don't think there's any hope left in the world," said Song the nurse as quickly as she could, "but there is hope. The Avatar has returned!"

He felt the weight of four pairs of eyes on his back. "I know," he whispered, feeling that rage in his blood fill him up again.

With that, he stormed away, aware of Iroh and Song Lee following close behind. 

As the three of them passed the courtyard gate, Zuko got a clear view of a stable, in front of which two horse-ostriches were tethered to a post. "This one's mine," said Song Lee, approaching the two. She ran her hand over the throat of the one that had an X-shaped scar over its throat. "I got him when I landed in the Earth Kingdom."

"You must really like animals with terrible pasts," said Iroh, doubtlessly reminded of Tongyi's own scar.

Song Lee smiled.

"One won't hold all three of us," said Zuko, glancing back at the house. He ignored the expression on Iroh's face and passivity on Song Lee's as he untied the other ostrich-horse and led it beside him. 

"What are you doing?" asked Iroh, his voice little more than a horrified, strangled hiss. "These people just showed you great kindness."

"They're about to show us a little more kindness," said Zuko, hopping on. He held his hand out to Iroh. "Well?"

Both of them were distracted by the _clink_ of coin against coin. They looked at Song Lee, who was carefully placing a pouch heavy with silver pieces on the now-vacated post. When she noticed their gazes on her, she said, "We can't just steal it."

"May I ride with you?" asked Iroh, turning his back on Zuko's hand. He took it back, pretending like the rejection didn't leave his pride smarting. He watched in silence as Iroh climbed on behind Song, much to the bemusement of her own ostrich-horse. 

As soon as they were settled, Zuko turned his ostrich-horse around, and then they were away, alone in a strange territory with no idea about what to do next.


	4. The Clouds Through Your Window As It Rained

**The Second Letter**

_Zuko's eyes lingered on the horizon. He didn't smile, but it was undeniable that the feeling blooming in his chest was a hopeful kind of victory that he hadn't felt for over two years._

_On the line where the clouds met the ice, a great beacon of blue light had risen into the sky. It was a sign that he was close._

_"Finally," he said to himself. He raised his voice, and to his Uncle, who was sitting behind him, he said, "Uncle, do you know what this means?"_

_"I won't get to finish my game?" replied Iroh._

_Zuko repressed an irritated sigh. "It means my search—it's about to come to an end."_

_Iroh groaned._

_"That light came from an incredibly powerful source!" said Zuko. "It has to be him!"_

_"Or it's just the celestial lights. I'm sure Song Lee would know; you should ask her. We've been down this road before, Prince Zuko. I don't want you to get too excited over nothing. Please, sit. Why don't you enjoy a cup of calming jasmine tea?"_

_"I don't_ need _any calming tea!" yelled Zuko. He felt like his rage would explode out of him at any moment. "I need to capture the Avatar. Helmsman, head a course for the light!"_

_Before the last word had left his lips, a dark sharp hurtled past him. He ducked on instinct and straightened, ready to hurl fire, but it was only Tongyi. He flapped around his head, and Zuko felt like he was being laughed at._

_Zuko turned his eyes back towards the horizon while Tongyi landed on his shoulder. For a moment, he let himself linger, searching for the source of the light, for the Avatar, but then he turned and brought Tongyi back inside. The warmth of the ship made his shoulders relax, and for some reason, he was able to breathe a little easier. Song Lee's letter was in his hand before he had even made it to his room._

**Prince Zuko,**

**If I could speak Falcon, I would certainly get Tongyi to apologize for almost biting you. Perhaps the two of us should learn Falcon together so as to scold Tongyi and to hear his apology. Thank you for neglecting to harm him when he attempted to harm you. I asked my father if attempting to bite the prince of the Fire Nation was a capital offense, but he was not sure. Is it? I find myself curious on the matter. Whatever the reason, I was pleased to see Tongyi alive and, other than his pre-existing scar, unharmed.**

_Zuko smiled at that, though he quickly concealed it. He made it to his room, and he closed the door quietly behind him before sitting down._

**At the rate you search for the Avatar, I am sure that your journey will come to an end soon. You show far too much determination and resilience for it to turn out otherwise. When you return home, will you think of me? Will you still wish to receive letters through Tongyi? I am not sure if it is out of line to ask that. I apologize if so, and you do not have to answer. I would certainly think of you. At this point in time I consider you a friend.**

**Even disregarding his scar, Tongyi is a very strange falcon. His favorite food is cake. Any kind of cake, really, other than chocolate, because messenger falcons cannot consume caffeine. Most falcons eat living things, actually; I once witnessed a falcon about two-thirds the size of Tongyi consume an entire full-grown badger-frog. It was a sight to behold. My father, who was with me at the time, thought it disgusting. We disagree sometimes. Tongyi can and will eat living things, which is what he does when he needs to make long journeys between the naval base and the Fire Nation, but it is important to note that he loves cake more than all other things in the world, including me, even though cake is bad for him.**

**Sometimes I steal cake from the base's massive kitchen when Tongyi comes back from a long trip, but I do not do that often. The cook used to give me cake for Tongyi, but after a while I seemed to 'rub him the wrong way,' which is how my father explained it. I just think he hates me. The cook says I talk too much. Did you know that?**

_Zuko smiled at that, too._

**Sometimes if he catches me in the kitchen he will throw stuff at me until I leave. I don't tell my father about that part, even though I still have a scar on my ear from when he threw a kitchen knife.**

**My father is not doing very well. He's very busy, and tired all the time. Greeting you and your uncle a week ago was the first break he has had in months. The stars are still ever-present and as beautiful as always, but I find that I miss discussing them with you. No one else cares about them. My father used to, but he never has the time to sit and talk with me like you did when you were here, so I have no one with which to speak about the schematics of supernovas or my theories on the occurrence of celestial lights.**

**You have to add the 'eagerly' when you write letters, my teacher said. It is almost as if you had never written a letter before.**

**I eagerly await your reply.**

**Song Lee**

_Zuko released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. So far, he really enjoyed Song Lee's letters. He was happy that he had agreed to let her write to him._

_He called for some cake for Tongyi, and then he set out everything he needed to write a reply._

* * *

Song Lee quietly observed Prince Zuko and General Iroh from her spot in the shade across the street. They certainly didn't look like royalty; they looked like beggars. Which they were also.

The day was heavy with heat, which was odd for a day so early in spring. Song Lee supposed, though, that spring in the northernmost Earth Kingdom was probably much different from spring in the Fire Nation or at her father's naval base. The air was much more dry than humid, which she appreciated despite the amount of dust from the street that stuck to her and stood out against her dark hair and clothes. 

With no money at all after Song Lee had left everything with Song the nurse and her mother, General Iroh had been the one to suggest begging. No one ever looked twice at beggars, he reasoned, so he was going to recognize them? Song Lee wasn't entirely convinced that was the case, but unlike herself and Prince Zuko, General Iroh was particularly adept at charming people. It was a relief, because whenever Song Lee tried to beg, she made people uneasy. That was why she was waiting in the shade across the street, actually; General Iroh had suggested she rest. 

Prince Zuko didn't attempt to beg at all. Song Lee watched in wide-eyed fascination as some people walked in a wide arc around the two. She wondered if his scowl was frightening them all away.

His scowl was on his face so often than even Song Lee could recognize it. It was deep-set on his face, sometimes even in his sleep, and begging in the street did not serve as an exception. He had his hat on. She imagined he was doing his best to hide his pale face from the sun, but she knew it wouldn't be long until the sun found his cheeks and burned them. She was interested to see what that looked like.

General Iroh's expressions were harder to recognize. He twisted his facial features so often that it was more of a roll of a dice than anything to Song Lee. Was he content? Hungry? Joyful? Frustrated? She had no idea. 

She came to attention when General Iroh called, "Spare coin for weary travelers?"

She watched as a different man tossed a handful of copper pieces into the general's own hat, which he held upside-down in his hand. They made a pretty sound as they jangled against the few coins that were already there.

She slunk out of the shadows and crossed the street, deciding that General Iroh could make enough without her help. She settled in a crouch on the other side of Prince Zuko, not quite sitting, ready to bolt if she needed to. She kept a light grip on the hilt of her sword.

The prince neither looked at her nor acknowledged her presence, instead turning to look at General Iroh. "This is humiliating!" he said. "We're royalty. These people should be giving us whatever we want."

"I'm not royalty," said Song Lee as she studied every person who passed. No one made eye contact with her. Not for the first time, she wondered why women worse skirts instead of pants—what if they needed to flee from a situation or fight off an attacker? Skirts were not very freeing in terms of those things. Some of the men wore robes, which were just as bad in her opinion.

"You're the daughter of the Vice Admiral of the Fire Nation Navy," said Prince Zuko without looking at her. "It's close enough."

She let her gaze fall to the road with a frown, glad that he wasn't staring at her. She didn't like the feeling that came up at the mention of her father, so she pushed it away.

"They will," said General Iroh. She looked at him. "If you ask nicely."

Song Lee did her best to match Prince Zuko's scowl. She hated asking nicely.

She watched as General Iroh turned his sights on a young woman who was passing. His voice suddenly turned weak as he said, "Spare change for a hungry old man?"

Song Lee looked at Zuko, worried, but his deepening scowl told her that everything was probably okay. 

"Aww," said the woman. Song Lee frowned as she handed a coin to General Iroh. "Here you go."

"The coin is appreciated, but not as much as your smile."

Prince Zuko slapped himself in the face as the woman giggled and walked away. "Are you all right?" she asked both of them.

"Of course," said General Iroh. He smiled at her—at least, she thought he was smiling, though he could be baring his teeth in anger—and she did her best to bare her teeth right back in a frightening and insincere imitation of his own smile. "If you become what people want you to be, they enjoy giving things to you. It's a terrific advantage. Besides, they also like compliments."

"I don't know what anyone wants me to be," she replied. "And I'm terrible at compliments. Every time I try, I just insult people." Her father had been on the receiving end of many of her attempts at compliments—she didn't think he had ever recovered from the time she had compared his eyes to a dying star. "Are _you_ okay?" she asked Prince Zuko, referring to the way he'd slapped his face.

Before he could answer, though, a man stopped in front of them. He was looking at Prince Zuko. He had two beautiful though moderately plain broadswords strapped to his hips. He was smiling, Song Lee was sure, but she didn't like how he was smiling. Her grip tightened on the hilt of her sword. 

"How about some entertainment in exchange for... a gold piece?" 

Song Lee looked at Zuko, her grip easing slightly. A gold piece was worth more than the value of all the copper pieces in Iroh's hat put together. She deflated, though, when Prince Zuko said, "We're not performers." His scowl had yet to vacate his expression.

General Iroh just smiled and, over the top of Prince Zuko's lap, handed Song Lee the hat he had been holding. She had to release her sword to balance the coins in her hands. "Not professional, anyway," he said, standing up. He clapped his hands together, and then his voice changed as he spoke. No, he _sang._

Song Lee almost let go of the hat of coins to clap her hands over her ears, but she didn't. She watched, transfixed, as General Iroh sang the beginning of a song about girls in the great city of Ba Sing Se. His voice wasn't unpleasant, but she hadn't been expecting a great general of the Fire Nation's military to break out into song while begging for copper pieces on the streets of a small Earth Kingdom town.

The man, however, didn't seem to like it at all. "Come on!" he said, tearing one of the broadswords from its sheath. Song Lee tensed up again, and her grip on her own sword's hilt turned her knuckles white. "We're talking a _gold piece_ here!" He unsheathed the other, too, and Song Lee would have drawn her sword if Prince Zuko hadn't stilled her hand with his own. "Let's see some action," she heard the man say as her gaze met Prince Zuko's burning eyes.

"Don't draw attention," he said, his voice quiet enough that only she could hear him. 

She blinked and turned her attention back to General Iroh. She didn't move out of her crouch, and she was still tense and ready to fight the man off at a moment's hesitation, but she waited.

"Dance!" said the broadsword man.

He took his swords and swiped them at General Iroh's feet. Song Lee felt a surge of heat sweep through her veins as her stomach knotted up, but she did nothing as General Iroh began hopping from foot to foot to avoid getting cut down. Prince Zuko's hand, which was still holding her wrist, tightened. She looked at him again. He was watching his Uncle, but his scowl had changed. It was darker, as if he were secretly itching to fight, too.

Finally, General Iroh's song ended. The man stopped attacking, and he laughed. She despised the sound of his laugh. She despised _him._

"Nothing like a fat man dancing for his dinner!" he said. He tossed the gold piece in the general direction of Song Lee, who had to both brush Prince Zuko's hand off of her and release her sword to catch it in General Iroh's hat. That was when she made eye contact with the man. His expression changed—his eyes and his mouth opened wide. She knew this expression: he was surprised.

"You're a girl," he said. 

She shrank back against the wall, her shoulders fully tense, her legs eager to take her far, far away from the man.

His expression changed; she didn't recognize this one. "I suppose I could supply you with a couple more gold pieces for a different _kind_ of entertainment."

"No," said Prince Zuko, his voice almost a hiss. He was on his feet before Song Lee could do anything. "Get out of here. Go away."

The man laughed and shrugged, backing up a few paces with his hands held up in surrender. Why was he surrendering? "It was just a suggestion. I don't prefer them dark, anyway."

Song Lee frowned. She didn't understand what the man meant. But from the haphazard angles of Prince Zuko's shoulders, she could tell that he was even more angry than usual. 

The broadsword man looked at her one more time, and then he turned and walked away.

Prince Zuko didn't stop watching him until he was completely out of sight, and then he scowled at General Iroh, who was already sitting again. He said nothing, though, and refused to look at Song Lee as he sat back down between the two.

She passed the hat back to General Iroh but also decided to say nothing. 

Zuko was done with begging. He hated the looks he received from passersby, hated the way his Uncle acted. Zuko was a _prince._ He shouldn't have to live like that. And Iroh may have been fine with it, but it was certainly no life for Song Lee, either. She needed family watching her, needed continuity and monotony.

What had happened to her father?

It didn't matter. She obviously didn't want to talk about it. 

Most of all, though, he hated the man with the broadswords. They way he had treated Iroh. The way he had looked at Song Lee.

_I don't prefer them dark, anyway._

Zuko clenched his fists, the sensation of his fingernails digging into his palms a welcome distraction. 

Iroh and Song Lee were safely hidden away in a cave in the forest. He left them there, promising to return with food. The moon was full, and it hung high above him. He still had his mask and his dark, form-fitting clothes that reminded him all at once of what Song Lee wore on a daily basis. 

The only things missing from his Blue Spirit costume were the broadswords, and he knew exactly where he was going to get them.

The Blue Spirit returned to the town that he had been begging in earlier that day, only one target in mind. He silently made his way across the rooftops. The moon provided enough light that he could see clearly. The night was suffocating in its silence as he watched, waited. The man was a thug. He would be somewhere, because he had no reason to fear anyone else. He was a predator. He wasn't used to being hunted. 

It wasn't long before the Blue Spirit's suspicions turned out to be correct as he caught sight of the man with the broadswords. He was wandering through the streets without a care in the world, not bothering to muffle his steps. He could practically _smell_ the arrogance wafting off of him. 

The Blue Spirit was angry, and he was going to avenge Iroh and Song Lee before the night was over.

Before he could move to follow the man, however, Song Lee herself appeared next to him. On the roof. The Blue Spirit was so startled that he almost fell off the other side.

"What on Earth are you doing here?" he asked before he remembered that Song Lee thought he was just the Blue Spirit.

She didn't seem surprised. "You aren't as sneaky as you think you are, Prince Zuko" she said. Her voice was much quieter than usual, but it was still a lot louder than he wished it would be. "Can I help?"

"What?" he asked, pushing his mask up.

"Can I help get the swords?"

"What? Of course not."

She sighed, but she nodded. "Okay. I'm going to watch, though."

"Um, okay," he said, looking behind her at the expanse of the town's rooftops. "How did you make it up here?"

"Same as you did. I scaled a wall."

Zuko had not in fact scaled a wall. He'd found a great stack of boxes and climbed up, but he wasn't about to tell her that. "Well, how did you sneak up on me?"

"I didn't sneak up on you. If I had, you'd be dead."

"I don't think you know what that... Nevermind." He shook his head. "Come on. I spotted the swords."

"The man from earlier?"

"Yeah."

Song Lee didn't smile, but her expression eased and she relaxed. Zuko hadn't noticed that she was tense in the first place. In fact, if it weren't for the moon shining off of her hair and illuminating her face, he doubted he would have seen her at all. The rest of her seemed to blend into the shadows, even on the moonlit roofs. 

_Dangerous,_ a voice in the back of his mind whispered. He paid it no mind.

"Let's go," she said, and then she was off, moving across the rooftops with such a fluid ease that Zuko wondered if she had been up there before. She wasn't as quiet as he was, but he imagined that it was still almost impossible to see her if you didn't know what you were looking for.

He followed her through the town until she finally settled down on a roof overlooking an empty street. "He's coming this way," she said, reaching towards him. He went very, very still until she'd lowered his mask back over his face. He'd forgotten he'd put it up. "I'll stay here and watch. Try not to bend."

Of course he knew not to bend, but he bit back a sarcastic comment and turned his attention to the street after nodding at her. It felt strange to even put it back now that he wasn't completely anonymous anymore. 

Song Lee was right. A single moment after they'd gone still, the man turned and walked towards their position. Zuko's jaw ached with how tightly he clenched his teeth together. The mere thought of the man made him feel waves of anger so strong that he had been fighting off the urge to scream for hours, and with the man right in front of him, he could feel his bending ability urging him to throw a fireball or set the town on fire or _something,_ but he knew he couldn't bend. That would defeat the entire purpose of the mask.

"Go," whispered Song Lee, and he snapped out of the murderous trance he had gone into. He glanced at her. She wasn't looking at him.

As soon as the man passed, the Blue Spirit leapt down and moved down and around, using the shadows to his advantage. The man stopped walking and turned around, but the Blue Spirit was already to his back.

"Who's there?" the man asked. He had drawn his broadswords, but he didn't sound afraid. He sounded cautious, still overly arrogant. He seemed to think that his broadswords were an impenetrable shield as well as a tool to torment beggars in the street.

The Blue Spirit waited for the span of a second, breathing in, and then he moved. He grabbed the man's wrists and twisted, forcing him to release the swords. The contact made him feel slightly nauseous, but as soon as he heard the clatter of the swords hitting the ground, the Blue Spirit used all of his strength to throw the man against the boxes lining the street. The impact creating a loud crash that was sure to attract unwanted attention, but as the Blue Spirit picked up the swords, felt that familiar weight in his grip, he didn't entirely care.

The man certainly seemed afraid then.

"What now, Prince Zuko?" asked Song Lee.

Zuko had hidden the swords, and after he'd changed, he'd hidden his clothes and mask, too. He felt strange wearing green all the time. "What do you mean?" he asked her. Midnight had just passed them by, and the light of the moon was blocked out by the trees of the forest that they were camped in. 

"That man is going to report you to the authorities."

He sighed at the thought, and then he made himself shrug. What were authorities going to do? The Blue Spirit was long gone, and they would never suspect a so-called beggar to be under the mask. Instead of replying, he said, "You should stop calling me a prince."

"Why? You are one."

"I'm disgraced and on the run from the rest of the royal family," he said, even though that wasn't really the reason he wanted her to stop. "I don't really feel like, you know, an actual prince. Besides, that title draws unwanted attention."

Really, though, he just didn't want her to act so formal around him.

"Do you want me to call you _Junior,_ then?"

A short laugh ripped its way out of his throat, surprising him. "No," he said.

"Lee, then? No, that would be weird. That's my name."

"Yeah, really weird," he said, pretending like he hadn't chosen the name because he'd been thinking of her in the moment Song the nurse had asked for his name. Song Lee wasn't looking at him. She rarely was, he noticed, which was probably a good thing, because at that moment he couldn't keep himself from smiling like an idiot. "You can just call me Zuko. You know, when it's just us."

"Just us an General Iroh?"

"Sure. But you probably don't want to call him by hit title, either."

"I don't like the name Mushi, though."

Zuko cringed. "Yeah, uh, me neither. Just call him Iroh. Or 'Uncle.'"

"But he's not my uncle," she said. She looked at him, then, straight in the eyes. She was standing directly beneath a break in the trees, and the light of the moon turned the usually storm-gray eyes into silvery pools of mercury. 

For a moment, he forgot how to speak, but then he forced himself to look away and say, "Um, that's okay. It provides you with some cover. I guess. And, uh, he'd probably like that." His Uncle liked formality even less than he did. 

He glanced at her again, and he was pleased to see a small present on her face. "Okay," she said. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "Zuko."

Something seemed to break in his chest, and that constant knot in his stomach seemed to unravel, but he ignored the feelings. "Great," he said. "We should probably find some food. That's what we... You know. Said, uh, we would do."

"Okay," she said again, and then she melted into the trees.

He let out a breath, feeling very unsteady on his feet, before he followed. He wondered if he was sick. 

After the swords, he branched out, donning the Blue Spirit costume more and more often. He was done with begging and depending on people to give out of the goodness of their hearts, which was unrealistic, anyway. He stole food from a couple on the street. He stole money from a magistrate traveling through the woods. He used the money to buy dishes, a teapot for Iroh, an actual Earth Kingdom-style dress for Song Lee. He didn't think she'd wear it, but he got it anyway.

Song Lee followed him whenever he became the Blue Spirit, as quiet and studious as his own shadow. It quickly became apparent, though, that she didn't like what he was doing. It had been different when they had stolen the swords from the man who had tormented Iroh and Song Lee. He knew that the others had done nothing to deserve getting stolen from, but he didn't care. Song Lee simply did. And how did he know that, if he could never tell what she was thinking? She always made it to the cave before he did and stole all of his blankets, using them to add to her own nest of blankets, and he would sleep in the cold until he could steal them back or get new ones. Then she would steal those, too.

His Uncle had always been suspicious of the two's continuous disappearances, but it accumulated the evening Zuko brought the teapot back to the cave. "Looks like you did some serious shopping," said Iroh as he inspected it. A fire was crackling next to them, filling the cave with smoke and illuminating Iroh's face unevenly. "But where did you get the money?"

"Do you like your new teapot?" asked Zuko instead of answering.

"What does it matter if she likes it?" asked Song Lee from her corner. “It looks ridiculous, anyway.” She had claimed a darker part of the cave as her own, and when Zuko had gone shopping for Iroh's teapot, she had stayed behind and stolen all of his blankets again. It was an odd form of revenge. At that point, she had enough blankets to wrap around herself in a cocoon and still have a blanket-nest to herself. He could really only see her face through all of them.

"It matters because I got it for him," said Zuko, scowling at her. She bared her teeth at him, clutching the blanket-cocoon tighter to her body, and he rolled over so that his back was facing her.

"To be honest with you, the best tea tastes delicious whether it comes in a porcelain pot or a tin cup," said Iroh. He sat down next to Zuko and placed a steady hand on his shoulder. "I know we've had some difficult times lately. We've had to struggle to just to get by. But it's nothing to be ashamed of. There is a simple honor in poverty."

"There is no honor for me without the Avatar."

Zuko heard Song Lee mutter to herself from her nest. "Zuko," said Iroh, and then he sighed. Reluctantly, he continued: "Even if you did capture the Avatar, I'm not so sure it would solve our problems. Not now."

"Then there is no hope at all," said Zuko, his throat suddenly dry and his nose stinging with some suppressed emotion. He brushed his Uncle's hand off of his shoulder and sat up. 

"No, Zuko!" said Iroh before he could leave. "You must never give into despair. Allow yourself to slip down that road and you surrender to your lowest instincts." Zuko's bleary gaze met Song Lee's. She had shed most of the cocoon, and her eyes were set alight by the reflection of the fire, but then she looked away. "In the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength."

The stinging sensation in his nose got stronger, and he stared at his Uncle for a little less than a moment before he stood. He left the cave, his thoughts a mess as he choked back a sob. The gazes of Iroh and Song Lee were heavy on his back, and he heard the rustling of fabric before Iroh said, "No, Song Lee. Leave him alone for now."

He didn't hear her reply, but as he stumbled through the trees, finally letting tears coat his face as his anger and frustration and hopelessness overtook him, he wondered why she would _want_ to follow him if she was unhappy with him.

When he returned, it was well after dark. It had been a few days since he had stolen the broadswords, and the moon had just begun waning. 

Iroh's was standing with his back to the cave mouth, which was Zuko knew was dangerous, but he also knew that few people could sneak up on his Uncle. He knew that Iroh knew he was there. Before he said anything, though, he surveyed the cave one last time. His gaze landed on Song Lee. 

In the very first days that Song Lee had started traveling with them, they discovered that Song Lee was a very particular sleeper. The only way she could position herself and allow her body to shut down was to curl up into a tight ball, her nose covered by her shoulder and her back against some solid wall. It didn't matter if she was in a bed or on the floor or covered in blankets or protected only by her clothes as long as she could curl up with her back against a wall. In those first days, they hadn't been able to find a cave or a house or anything, and with a camp out in the open, Song Lee just didn't sleep. It was a relief to everyone when they found the cave, because a Song Lee that didn't sleep was a Song Lee that was often short-tempered and irritable and even more picky than usual.

When Zuko returned, Song Lee's blanket nest had considerably lessened in size, and her cocoon was gone, but she was asleep. He breathed out a quiet sigh of relief. What he was about to do would be a thousand times easier without having to deal with her as well. She wouldn't understand.

"Uncle, I thought a lot about what you said," said Zuko, careful to keep his voice quiet enough that he didn't wake Song Lee.

Iroh turned his head, his expression suddenly bright. Zuko's stomach clenched at the sight of his smile. "You did?" he asked. "Good, good."

Before he could say anything else, though, the words Zuko had spent hours working out in his head fell out of his mouth. "It's helped me realize something. We no longer have anything to gain by traveling together. I need to find my own way."

He stopped and held his breath. His Uncle looked away, but his entire figure sagged, as if a sudden invisible weight had been placed on his shoulders.

Zuko turned to leave, but then Iroh said, "What about Song Lee?"

His eyes landed on her again. She shifted slightly, and he froze, but she only sighed in her sleep. Her hair curled around her closed eyes, and even in sleep, her expression was troubled and guarded.

"She stays with you," said Zuko, keeping his voice quiet. "Or she finds her own way, too."

Iroh nodded once, and Zuko glanced one more time around the cave. He froze again when he looked at where he'd slept the past couple of nights. All of his stolen blankets were piled on top of the spot, which explained where Song Lee's cocoon had gone. She had returned them.

He left before he could think about it too much. 

Outside the cave, he felt like he could breathe again. His throat was still raw from his earlier breakdown, even though it had been hours. The night air scraped through it, but it was refreshing after the suffocating tension of the cave. He still felt sick, though, and his stomach was twisting up in knots again. He knew he needed to leave, but it felt so strange to move on without his Uncle, without his friend. Because she _was_ his friend. It felt almost painful to admit it to himself. 

The thought of the returned blankets returned to his mind's eye, but he pushed it away again. 

He picked up his pack—he had yet to retrieve his Blue Spirit disguise, but he would do that before he left completely—before he heard his Uncle from behind him: "Wait!"

Zuko turned, prepared to do _something_ to convince his Uncle to stay, but instead of insisting on joining him, Iroh simply handed him the reigns for the ostrich-horse that he had stolen (and Song Lee had paid for) from Song the nurse's house. 

"I will do my best to take care of her," said Iroh, his tone serious as he looked Zuko in the eye. "Be careful."

The words _thank you_ wanted to push through Zuko's lips, but he held them back. He wouldn't be able to bear uttering them. He hopped onto the ostrich-horse's saddle, and after one last glance at his Uncle, he was gone.

Song Lee was awake when General Iroh returned to the cave. She had learned to sleep lightly, and when General Iroh had shouted _Wait!_ she had regained consciousness immediately. As she focused her senses and got used to being awake again, she'd noticed that though his blankets were still there, Prince Zuko's supplies had disappeared. 

"Where did he go?" she asked General Iroh, her eyes wide. She'd never taken her coat off, so she had no need to pull it on as she detangled herself from her blanket-nest. She rose to her feet and pulled her boots on to the best of her sleep-addled ability. "We need to go after him."

"Calm down," replied General Iroh, gently taking her shoulders and helping her sit back in her nest. "He must find his own way."

"But he... he can't just _leave._ What..."

Song Lee was itching to run after Prince Zuko and never stop until she caught up with him. She didn't know how to describe what she was feeling. Her stomach kept clenching and unclenching, and she was also feeling panicked, which was a normal feeling for her to feel. Also concerned, which was less normal. Why did he just move on without her? 

"Relax," said General Iroh. He was gone from her side, but before she could get worked up again, he was there again. "Do you want tea?"

"Um," she said. She paused, took deep breaths, just like her teacher had taught her. "Um." Deep breaths. She could see clearly again, and she could focus on the general, whose expression was about as unrecognizable as it always was. She longed for the familiarity of Prince Zuko's scowl. "Do you have jasmine?"

"Just a little bit more."

"Yes, please."

Her voice was small, unsteady, pathetic. She continued focusing on breathing deeply.

She calmed down, relieved that she hadn't actually suffered a meltdown. General Iroh used the silly golden teapot that Prince Zuko had bought with his stolen money to make them both some jasmine tea. She watched the fire. Her favorite part about it was the way the air above it wavered, the way the things on the other side of it seemed to distort and shimmer and bend. It had always fascinated her.

Finally, General Iroh placed a cup of tea in her hands. She snapped away from staring at the air above the fire and sipped it, cringing away from the way it burned her tongue before she drank more of it, thankful for the distracting pain of her scalding throat. She was sure she would regret doing that later, but at the moment, she didn't care. Her breathing had evened out, and she was ready to focus on the problem at hand.

When she finished, she said, "We have to follow him. I will go alone if you will not come with me."

General Iroh laughed. "Of course we have to follow him. He's a teenage boy, and he's one of the most wanted individuals in the world right now. And you are a teenage girl. I won't just leave you alone in the wilderness of the Earth Kingdom. We'll be there for him, don't worry."

Song Lee knew that she could take care of herself, but she was grateful, anyway. It occurred to her that she should say something profound to thank him, but she couldn't find the words. Instead, she moved to the general's side from her nest, even though the intensified light from the fire made her eyes burn. The two sat in complicit silence as the flames faded into the early morning.


	5. The Last Time We Spoke

**Song Lee,**

**Biting a prince is one way to harm a prince. Harming a prince isn't technically a capital offense, but in the Fire Nation it would be easy to simply set the falcon on fire.**

_He figured that it would probably be unwise to write that particular part, but he didn't want to start over or scratch it out._

**Lucky for you, Tongyi didn't actually bite me, and even if he did, I wouldn't set him on fire. That would be stupid, because he's just a bird, and because I wouldn't get to write to you if that happened, would I?**

**My sister is definitely that kind of princess, though. I guess it's a pretty good thing you're writing to me instead of her.**

**Just before Tongyi delivered your second letter, my Uncle and I witnessed a great beam of blue light in the sky. Did you see it, too? I think that my search for the Avatar may be coming to an end. I'm hopeful for the first time in two years, you know. If I do end up actually capturing the Avatar, would you like for me to return to the naval base to arrest the cook? I could claim that _he_ bit me. I wouldn't set him on fire, of course, but I could take him back to a Fire Nation prison so that he wouldn't be able to hurt you again, and you could get a new cook that wouldn't attack you with knives.**

**Also, if I ever do end up returning home, of course you can still write to me, and of course I would think of you. I've never met anyone like you, so I’m sure you'd probably be pretty hard to forget.**

_Zuko paused and set his brush down, turning his thoughts towards the stars. It wasn't dark outside, but he closed his eyes, and he was able to picture the night sky, and the way it looked through Song Lee's telescope, and the way the starlight glimmered against the coil of her hair. He didn't know how to talk to her about it, how to recreate that memory anywhere outside of his head. He missed her, too. But he couldn't write that down, so instead, he asked:_

**What are your theories on celestial lights?**

_Because, he reasoned, if the blue beacon really was just a strange show of celestial lights like his Uncle had suggested, it would be easy enough to at least find out more about them._

_With nothing more to add, he finished the letter._

**I eagerly await your reply,**

**Zuko**

_A quiet knock sounded from the door. He put the letter aside to dry while he accepted the cake from the cook. While Tongyi helped himself, he rolled the letter up and tucked in into the carrier._

_Song Lee's letter, which he had already read three times, remained in his hand as he led Tongyi back outside and launched him into the sky. The ship was already nearing the origin of the beacon, and with the letter at his side, he felt strangely loose and ready to face whatever was on his path. He turned his eye towards Tongyi as he circled and flew North, and he exhaled quietly. He was ready._

* * *

The sounds of the crowded square were almost overwhelming, and people kept pressing against Song Lee as they tried to get past her. She found it both irritating and something else, a little bit closer to fear; she knew her heart rate wouldn't be completely calm until well after they'd left the too-large town. She pressed closer to General Iroh. He said nothing of it.

Following Prince Zuko from a distance was getting difficult, but it was a lot easier with Song Lee's ostrich-horse, which had been left in a community stable on the edge of the town. The problem with the town was that they knew Prince Zuko hadn't stopped there to resupply like they were in the process of doing, which Song Lee thought was particularly worrying, even though she remembered how resilient he was. If anyone could make it through the wasteland that stretched from the town to the next village, she knew it was him. She hoped he was doing okay, though at the moment she just focused on stamping down the anxiety caused by the crowded market square. They needed to buy supplies. They'd sold the golden teapot, but their money was quickly dwindling. Neither said anything about the dress that Prince Zuko had bought for Song Lee, though she was prepared to sell it, too, if an emergency occured.

"We need to make sure we have as much water as we can carry," General Iroh was telling her as they slowly picked their way through the masses of people in the square. "It is a good thing that we have your ostrich-horse..."

"Nanfang Zhuque."

"What?"

"What's his name."

"Nan... Say again?"

"You can just call him Zhuque if you want."

General Iroh stared at her for a moment. "Why is that his name?"

Song Lee made sure that a very quick-footed man didn't run straight into her. "It's the symbol for the southernmost seven of the twenty-eight mansions."

"For the...?"

"They're asterisms for the constellation."

"Ah," he said. "My nephew did mention that you liked astronomy."

"He did?"

"He did indeed."

She kept her eyes on the people around them, looking for threats. There didn't seem to be any that were particularly imminent. "The constellation depicts the vermillion bird of the south. There are four constellations in all. I thought that one fit my ostrich-horse the most, though."

"Because he's a bird?" 

"Yes."

"I understand," he said. Then, he added: "Oh, yes, and we need to make sure Zhuque is also fed and watered."

"Yes. We should get food now, and a lot of water skins. I saw a well nearby; we can fill them there."

General Iroh nodded.

Song Lee looked over the houses in the village, towards the mountains. The sky was clear, and despite it being early spring, it was kind of hot. Not hot enough to make her take her coat off, but hot. The town wasn't large enough to be called a city, but it was definitely on the larger side. It had probably been a good thing that Prince Zuko hadn't stopped. For him, the risk of getting recognized would have just been too high. With Iroh, he had at least a little anonymity unless you knew what he looked like. Song Lee wasn't anonymous at all, what with her darker skin and much darker clothes, but then again, she wasn't the one that was wanted by the Earth Kingdom's government.

"Do you think that your nephew's doing okay?" she asked. She didn't want to utter his name.

"I think so," he said. His eyes caught on something over her shoulder; she followed his line of sight to a booth filled with colorful fabrics that they couldn't afford. "But we should go soon, just to be safe."

Song Lee nodded.

And then someone grabbed her elbow and wheeled her around.

In the crowded square, Song Lee was separated from General Iroh immediately, but at the moment she didn't care. Her pulse roared in her ears as she drew her longsword, ready to cut down whoever it was that had grabbed her, and her vision went topsy-turvy.

Everything calmed when she recognized the boy who had grabbed her, his long hair pulled back and his strange grass-green eyes wide as he stared at her sword.

"Mio," she said, her tone mildly surprised. She didn't lower her sword.

"Hey, Lee," he said, still staring. "Um, I thought it was you. You look different."

With that, she finally sheathed the sword. In the crowd, very few people had noticed it was out in the first place, though the nearest passersby were edging away from the two of them. "What are you doing here?" she asked. It had been years since she'd seen him last.

Mio looked different, too. His hair was much longer, though it was still tied well away from his face. He was also wearing green robes, which she wasn't used to seeing on him. It made his eyes seem much brighter. She avoided making eye contact.

"I'm traveling with my family," he told her. Then he leaned forward, lowered his voice, said, "The colonies were getting unruly and tyrannical, so we left. We've got passports for Ba Sing Se." He leaned away again, much to Song Lee's relief. "What are _you_ doing here?"

She didn't know how to respond.

"Hello," said General Iroh, materializing next to her. She was relieved to see him again, even though he was shorter than both her and Mio. "I'm Song Lee's uncle. How do you know her?"

She almost smiled at that, suddenly remembering the conversation she'd had with Prince Zuko about that.

"I didn't know Hegu had a brother," said Mio, and both General Iroh and Song Lee stiffened. "Lee and I were friends when we were younger. Her aunt and my mom were pretty close, so whenever she stayed with her aunt we got to play a lot. I thought she was weird, but we got along okay. You look really different, Lee. You cut your hair!"'

"Yes," she said. She liked Mio about as much as she liked being called Lee, which is to say, not much at all. It was nice to see a familiar face, though, so she said nothing of it.

"Where _is_ your dad?"

Song Lee looked away and pretended like she hadn't heard him.

"Well, it was nice to meet you," said General Iroh. "Thank you for—"

"Oh, wait, but you just got here!" said Mio. "Have dinner with us! Mom would be really happy to see you again, Lee."

Song Lee didn't remember much about Mio, but she did know that he was a boy who rarely took 'no' for an answer. Hoping to avoid further conflict, she shared a glance with General Iroh, and then she said, "Just for dinner. We really need to go soon. We're on a short schedule."

"Great!" said Mio, stepping between the two of them and wrapped his arms through theirs, and then he was pulling them through the crowd. "You look like you would get on well with my father, sir," she heard him tell General Iroh. Song Lee tuned the rest of his words out, wishing that Mio would let go of her arm and doing her best to untangle the knot of dread that was tightening in her abdomen. 

Neither of Mio's parents joined them for dinner, which Song Lee thought was odd, especially since Mio had seemed to imply that his mother, at least, would be there. When the last of Mio's sisters joined him at the head of the table and told him that the parents wouldn't be able to make it, Song Lee thought that he would be disappointed. Instead, he just kept smiling. He was just as strange as she remembered.

Of course, that didn't mean that his four younger sisters couldn't join him. Song Lee was even less enthused about that part.

Mio was about Song Lee's age, if not a couple of months older, at 17. Next came Ming, who was 15; her hair was almost as short as Song Lee's. Then was Ran and Sumire, who were both twelve, except Ran was eleven months older than Sumire. Finally, there was Ayame, who was five. Her hair was longer than she was tall, and it was an absolute mess. All of them had the same too-bright green eyes that Mio had. All of them made her about as unnerved and irritated as Mio did.

Throughout the meal, Sumire kept touching Song Lee's hair. It made her very uncomfortable, but her teacher had taught her that it was rude to speak out against one's host. Ran kept asking her useless questions, mostly about her appearance. She didn't know how to answer all of them. Ayame, the youngest, didn't eat her food, choosing instead to stare endlessly at Song Lee. 

The attention made her feel unsteady and short of breath and unsure, but she did her best to keep quiet. Her own attention, however, was diminished greatly. She had no idea what Ming, Mio, and General Iroh were talking about, though at the moment, she didn't really care. She did notice that Mio's smile didn't leave his face once throughout the meal, and that Ming left the table halfway through the meal, but it was difficult to think about it too much with the rest of the sisters distracting her, especially because it was at that moment that Sumire yanked her hair so hard that she had to bite her tongue hard enough to puncture it to keep from snapping at her. 

In the far recesses of her mind, Song Lee wished that Prince Zuko was with them.

Finally, finally, the meal was over, and the rest of the sisters disappeared. Song Lee was finally given the chance to eat, though it turned out that Ayame had taken most of her food when she hadn't been looking. Mio didn't leave, probably waiting for his guests to finish, which Song Lee knew was custom in the Fire Nation. After a couple of minutes of silence, Ming entered the room again, whispering into Mio's ear without looking at Song Lee or General Iroh, and then she left again. 

Mio stood. "Excuse me for a moment," he told them. He bowed. "I will return in just a moment—there is something that requires my attention."

And then he was gone, too.

"Mio has changed a lot," said Song Lee, pushing her plate away and slouching. "We should have been gone by now. I hate it here."

"I don't particularly enjoy the company, either," said General Iroh, his eyes caught on the half-consumed cup of tea in front of him. "The food and drink wasn't much better."

"That's just because it wasn't jasmine tea."

"I suppose you're right," said General Iroh with a smile. Well, Song Lee thought it was a smile. She could never really tell with the general, though whatever it was, she much preferred it to Mio's smile.

"What happens if you're recognized?"

"I won't be. In fact, traveling without my nephew makes us much less conspicuous. No one will care about a weak old man who likes tea too much."

"But you're not weak," she replied, tilting her head thoughtfully.

"No, but that's what I want people to think."

"Because... you become what they want you to be," said Song Lee, remembering the conversation they'd had in the moments before the awful broadsword man had come along to torment them while they were begging. "And then they like giving things to you?"

He hummed, and then he said, "Well, yes, that is sometimes the case. But more often, I utilize what people think about me to to trick them into underestimating me. It is an advantage."

Song Lee didn't reply at first, mulling over his words in her mind. Then she said, "How can I utilize my advantage?"

"Easily. You're a girl."

She frowned. "So?"

"Most people—especially men—they _always_ underestimate girls. These men believe that girls can't fight, or if they can, they can't fight as well as the men can. Those are the kind of men that believe the tales of the women warriors of Kyoshi Island are nothing more than exaggerated myths."

"People also think I'm mad."

General Iroh gazed at her for a long moment, his expression as inscrutable as always. Finally, he said, "That is _exactly_ as assumption you can use to your advantage."

"Because no one thinks that madmen can fight?"

"You are a quick learner."

"Not always."

He smiled again, and this time, she smiled back.

It was precisely at that moment that the door burst open and a squad of Earth Kingdom soldiers—Song Lee counted ten of them in than moment that they appeared—poured into the dining room. Mio was leading the charge. Song Lee was on her feet in an instant, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword, though General Iroh remained sitting, his eyes wide and his posture almost as tense as hers.

Mio ignored her, though, and pointed at the sitting general. "Him. That's the Fire Lord's brother."

In that split-second of hesitation before anyone moved, Song Lee thought of several things at once. First, she thought about what General Iroh had told her when she'd asked what to do if he got recognized. _I won't be._ She knew at once that he had been wrong.

Second, she remembered General Iroh's advice about utilizing her advantage, and eased her hand away from her sword. 

The soldiers fanned out, ready to surround General Iroh, who still had yet to stand. She turned her thoughts to the situation at hand, running a million possible scenarios through her mind all at once. What could she do? How could she best utilize her advantage? Were there any weak points among the soldiers? What about Mio? Would General Iroh end up okay through all of this, no matter what?

She released her sword completely, widening her eyes and wrapping her arms around herself. "Oh. No!" she said. She knew she was a terrible actress, but she did her best, anyway. "What is going on?" She tried to make her voice higher, shakier, though she knew she couldn't do much about how loud and stiff it was to begin with.

A couple of the soldiers glanced at her and frowned, as if noticing her for the first time. She wondered what they were thinking, though she figured they were asking themselves what a girl, especially one dressed in boy's clothes, was doing eating with General Iroh of the Fire Nation. She put her hands over her mouth while they glanced back at Mio, who barely cast her a glance before he said, "Leave her alone. She's not a threat." He went back to glaring at General Iroh.

Song Lee felt vaguely insulted, but she shrank out of the way, keeping her hands over her face under the guise of fear. General Iroh didn't look at her. She hoped he knew what he was doing.

General Iroh had been recognized, despite his confidence that he wouldn't be. The Earth Kingdom soldiers knew who he was, knew the stories of what he could do. Song Lee, however, did know one thing—he didn't need to pretend to be someone he wasn't anymore. 

General Iroh turned his hands up, towards the soldiers, and fire seemed to explode out of him in a great wave that Song Lee had to jump out of the way of to keep from getting burned herself. The soldiers retreated a few steps, yelling back and forth to each other. They had underestimated him, and now one of them was on fire. His screams could be heard even over the crackling of the fire, which at that point seemed to be covering everything, though she knew General Iroh was keeping it under his control. 

An advantage indeed.

Song Lee hung back, not wanting to reveal herself if she didn't need to. She looked at Mio, and she felt disturbed at the viciousness of the cruelty and triumph on his face, which she could definitely recognize. She had seen that face many times during her childhood as Mio defeated her in the games they made up. He had always been a bully, and she had never liked that expression.

It made her feel steady, and it made her pulse even out as all of her focus narrowed and locked onto him. 

General Iroh was doing well on his own against the soldiers, she knew, but they were trained earthbenders, and he was widely outnumbered. He couldn't fight them all of at once. It reminded her briefly of the way he had fought off those ranks of Fire Nation soldiers on the dock, and of the brilliance of Princess Azula's lightning as it was sent into a cliff.

She pulled the hood of her coat up and over her hair, and she pulled her mask up over her nose. Her swords left its sheath with a smooth, clear whisper. There was no time to paint the week on her cheek, but it didn't matter. She had already lost enough time.

In the next moment, she was upon them.

The soldiers lay dead or unconscious throughout the dining room, which was an earth-distorted and scorched mess. As soon as the battle was over, General Iroh had recalled his fire so as not to risk spreading it throughout the town. Song Lee's eyes remained heavy on the soldiers she had slain herself, who she had watched die by her hands. This hadn't been this first time she'd killed, but she was still unused to it. She imagined that she'd never get used to it. 

Something moved by the door, and her eyes were drawn to the inert body of Mio. She hadn't killed him, but he was still bleeding slowly from a burn in his shoulder and a deep cut in his side. His expression was rapt with pain, which Song Lee recognized but had never seen on Mio before. He stared at the ceiling, teeth clenched, eyes clouded and blinking and blinking some more.

General Iroh left first. He didn't look at her. She wondered what he thought about her after the fight. She was sure she had questions, and she was ready to answer them. Well, some of them. As she tried to follow him out, however, Mio grabbed ahold of her leg, his fingers digging into her skin through her trousers right above where her boot ended. She knew his nails were going to leave bruises. She forced herself to look into his eyes, which were bright and wide, and it took everything in her not to look away.

"I... will _find_ you," he said through clenched teeth. She shifted her weight. "I will find you, and I will _end_ you. I will watch the life drain from your eyes, I _swear_ it."

She didn't bother replying. The prospect of death didn't seem to frighten her nearly as much as she'd noticed it frightened others—sometimes she almost relished the thought of dying and never needing to behave a certain way again. His words made such a small impact that she barely even registered the aggression behind his words. She didn't believe he would survive the night, anyway, and as she briefly turned her thoughts back to their shared childhood, she almost felt sorry for him.

Instead of saying anything, though, she shook his hand from her calf and followed General Iroh out. 

Silently, the two of them crept through the almost-deserted streets of the town. It was much quieter in the evening, and Song Lee was thankful that no one had heard and responded to the shouts of the Earth Kingdom soldiers.

"You're the Black Wing," said General Iroh at last once they had made it to the stables to fetch Nanfang Zhuque, the horse-ostrich. It was the first thing he'd said to her since they'd left the house.

"I'm the what?"

"When my nephew and I escaped from Azula, we were aided by a man—a person—dressed all in black. My nephew saw a wing under their eye. That was you."

"Yes."

"Wow," he said, looking down and blinking. "That's... Wow. There is a wanted poster for you as the Black Wing. But we thought..."

"You thought the Black Wing was a boy."

"I... Yes."

Song Lee hopped onto Nanfang Zhuque's saddle and bared her teeth at General Iroh in the imitation of a smile. "Advantage," she said, holding her hand out in an offer to help him up.

He smiled as he accepted her help. "Yes, I suppose so," he said as she pulled him up behind her.

As she watched General Iroh secure their new supplies, she thought of her friend, who was probably kilometers away at that point. She hoped that Prince Zuko was doing okay.


	6. You Were Glued to That Telescope

**The Third Letter**

_"Even in exile my nephew is more honorable than you," said Iroh to the defeated Captain Zhao. The contempt was easy to pinpoint in his voice, and Zuko stared at his Uncle, eyes wide and the words echoing through his mind. 'Honorable' was usually the last word someone would use to describe him. "Thanks again for the tea. It was delicious."_

_They left Zhao where he was. Zuko had just bested him—an adult and a supposed firebending master—in an Agni Kai. He had won. He had_ won, _and in the back of his mind, Zuko wished his father had been there to see it._

_As the two of them made their way back to the ship, Zuko worked up the courage to ask, "Did you really mean that, Uncle?"_

_Iroh smiled. "Of course. I told you ginseng tea is my favorite."_

_It was precisely at that moment that Tongyi landed on his shoulder._

_With the victory against Captain Zhao still fresh on his heart, the sight of Tongyi made him smile freely. He told himself that he didn't care his Uncle noticed, but his shoulders sagged with relief when Iroh said nothing of it. He practically ran back to the ship, hardly able to wait and tell her all about it._

**Prince Zuko,**

**I give you my thanks for neglecting to set Tongyi on fire. If I could speak Falcon, I am sure that he would tell me he would not like that. In reality, because I cannot speak Falcon, I am not certain whether he likes getting set on fire or not. I do not wish to find out.**

**I did not see the beacon of light you wrote to me about, but I know of it. Many of the men at the naval base saw it, and my father has been even busier with reports on it. I have read all of them, and I find myself fascinated. It is truly remarkable what they can think of, even though it was obviously not a natural occurrence. I have told no one of your suspicions that it may be the Avatar, however, though I am tempted to correct their theories about the beacon.**

**I am unsure whether you meant that I am unforgettable in a kind way or in an insulting way. It is hard sometimes for me to tell.**

**I do not know all there is to know about your journey, but I do not think that you need to regain the honor I believe you already have. You have never treated me as if I were mad, like most boys do. I do not pretend to be an expert on honor, but I find it curious that you think so lowly of yourself, especially because I think very highly of you.**

_Zuko didn't know how to react to that, so he just kept reading, even though his thoughts kept turning back to it._

**I very much enjoy reading about your adventures, and I look forward to your every letter. There is little to do here during the day, especially because I can only study the stars after dark. I would enjoy it a great deal if you did end up arriving on the basis of arresting the cook. I still have the remnants of his kitchen attacks on my ear and head, did you know that? I can never get cake for Tongyi without risking yet another repetition of the event.**

**In terms of my theories on celestial lights...**

_Song Lee had a lot to say on the subject. It was easily the longest letter he had received from her. She had multiple theories; she thought that the celestial lights were a result of magnetism (like the kind that made compasses point north) between the atmosphere and the surface of the world, or the reflection of sunlight, specifically off of the Poles, or the temperature of the atmosphere, or a combination of those and many other factors. Zuko could barely make sense of it, but he really enjoyed how passionate she was about the subject. She called the beacon an "atmospheric anomaly," and even though he knew that it really had been the Avatar that had caused the beacon, her theories seemed plausible. She also mentioned the belief held by the Water Tribes that the lights were caused by the spirits, but she didn't seem to take those beliefs seriously._

_Finally, she ran out of things to say about them._

**I am sure that by now you are sorry you asked after those theories, but I have never been so happy to write a letter before. No one ever asks, not my father, or my aunt, or my teacher. Sometimes they will listen to me if I begin talking about my theories, probably because I do not give them the choice. You, however, are the first person to ever genuinely ask. Thank you.**

**I eagerly await your reply.**

**Song Lee**

_Zuko smiled again, but it faded when he read through the letter again and his eyes snagged on what she'd written about his honor and how he thought of himself. He hadn't expected anything like that, especially from her._

_The cake arrived, then, and he was happy to turn his thoughts towards feeding Tongyi. He knew, though, that it would be a long time before he would be able to get her words out of his head._

* * *

He glanced behind him again. Sometimes he thought he heard someone following, and he almost expected to see Song Lee following along behind him, like she always did. But he never saw her. Her absence was almost tangible, and he hadn't slept well at all since leaving.

In the three days since he had left Iroh and Song Lee, Zuko had been through a lot. He had met a boy named Lee, whose parents had helped him away from the edge of starvation and who had let him stay the night. He had attempted to give the knife that his Uncle has given him to Lee, but then he'd had to fight off a group of thugs that supposedly protected the village that Lee lived in. In the process, he'd revealed himself as a firebender, and lost his tentative friendship with Lee and his parents. 

It didn't matter. Why would it matter? A war was raging across the nations, and he had his part in it, just like everyone else. 

After he'd left the village, he'd started tracking the machine. He didn't know what the machine was, exactly, just that it was following the Avatar.

Its tracks cut deep into the plants and soil wherever it went, even toppling full-grown trees in the process, and it left a thick billow of smoke in the sky behind it. It was painfully easy to follow it, actually. Zuko was much more worried about what awaited him when he finally caught up.

And he _would_ catch up.

The Avatar was traveling.

The machine was tracking the Avatar.

Prince Zuko was tracking the machine that was tracking the Avatar.

And, as Song Lee pointed out, she and General Iroh were tracking Prince Zuko who was tracking the machine that was tracking the Avatar.

Was the Avatar tracking her and General Iroh who were tracking Prince Zuko who was tracking the machine that was tracking the Avatar?

"I don't really think we're quite important enough to warrant the Avatar's attention," replied General Iroh.

"That's a shame," said Song Lee. "It would have been a nice circle."

And that was the end of the conversation. 

Song Lee and General Iroh had managed to figure out that the machine in question was a Fire Nation tank that must have been specifically modified to follow the shedding fur of the Avatar's sky bison, which General Iroh recognized when they came upon some of it. Prince Zuko's ostrich-horse (which was still unnamed, much to Song Lee's horror) left tracks beside the machine's. It was easy to follow. Song Lee really just hoped that they would catch up soon. 

She really missed the familiarity of Prince Zuko's scowl, as well as the ease of her conversations with him. She'd always liked that he listened and asked questions and enjoyed talking to her. She wasn't used to having an actual friend that was her age. Obviously, Mio had never been her friend, and other than him she'd never really gotten close to Song the nurse. She had friends in her aunt and teacher, of course, but that was different, and none of the rest of her teacher's students liked her at all.

To General Iroh's credit, he did listen, but he was completely reasonable. He asked analytical questions, like he was trying to understand her better, and not like he was interested in what she was talking about. He was also an old man. She liked that Prince Zuko never quite knew how to handle her but put forth every effort to try. In the days that they had been separated, Song Lee found his absence particularly gutting, as if she were missing a part of herself.

Really, she just missed him. 

While he was gone, though, the least that Song Lee could do was enjoy the silence. She didn't attempt to start a conversation, though she knew General Iroh had more questions, so she simply waited for him to speak as Nanfang Zhuque followed Prince Zuko's ostrich-horse's tracks. 

"Song Lee," he said at last. His voice was different from how it usually sounded.

She waited.

"Why are you here?"

Song Lee frowned, knowing that he was speaking about her appearance rather than the specific moment there were living in. "I'm here to assist Prince Zuko in his search for the Avatar."

"Why is that?"

She did her best to remember how she'd felt, sitting in Song the nurse's house and sending Tongyi off with the eleventh letter to Prince Zuko. It hadn't been a feeling she was used to experiencing, but it wasn't completely foreign, either. It was the same feeling she'd felt when Prince Zuko had told her that he'd never even received it. She didn't know what to call that feeling, or how to express it to General Iroh, so she didn't try.

"It is my own purpose right now," she said. "Maybe not my destiny, but it's what I believe is important in this moment. I explained it all in the eleventh letter to your nephew, but it was intercepted before he could read it. I think that's why Princess Azula brought so much security when she came to capture you and your nephew. Because she knew I was going to help you."

"I don't blame her. You are certainly very powerful with a sword in your hand."

"Yes," she said. "My teacher said as such."

"Who is your teacher?" asked General Iroh, once again turning to reasonable questions.

"Oh." She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Maybe you've heard of him. His name is Master Piandao; I was his student for a little under two years."

The shock on General Iroh's face was instantly recognizable. "Piandao, you say?"

"Yes," said Song Lee. She let herself smile as she turned her head back ahead of her. "He is one of my only friends. I still write to him sometimes." Her smile slid off of her face, and she frowned again. "The only problem is that I'm not sure where Tongyi is. If he's still alive."

"I'm sure he is," said General Iroh. "But your excellent swordsmanship is easily explained if your teacher was Master Piandao."

"You know him."

"Well, I know of him."

"Yes," she said, nodding to herself. "He's certainly known throughout the Fire Nation for his swords. Even a single day of study under him provides extreme improvement in many aspects of a man's life."

"Or a woman's?"

"I suppose so, yes, counting me."

"And you had two years under him."

She smiled again. "He's the only reason I can write as well as I do. Calligraphy was very difficult for me—it still is, actually—but I did very well with it under my teacher. He was patient. No one has even been that patient with me."

"You must be one of the best swordsmen in the Fire Nation with two years of practice under your belt."

"Certainly the best swordswoman," she replied.

General Iroh laughed, even though she couldn't tell what was very funny.

Just then, though, Nanfang Zhuque halted. Song Lee quieted and snapped the reigns experimentally, but instead of continuing, the ostrich-horse reared up, causing the unprepared General Iroh to topple off the back of him while Song Lee barely managed to hold on. If it weren't for Nanfang Zhuque's scarred throat, she was sure that he would be crying out in alarm. Song Lee could not tell why, but she did her best to calm him by yanking back on the reins.

That was when the earth split around them.

A giant shelf of rock roared towards General Iroh, spitting up from the ground as it moved in a curved line along the earth. Song Lee abandoned her attempts at calming Nanfang Zhuque and dove off, knocking him out of the way just in time. It hit her instead, but the angle at which she was hit caused her to fly up into the air, suspended for a semi-second, before she fell back down and collinded harshly with the ground. Her breath was stolen from her.

Master Piandao had trained her for this situation, though, so she rolled out of the way of another shelf of rock and drew her sword as she fought to catch her breath again. 

In the next instant, though, the ground swallowed her legs up to her knees, and she used her sword to keep herself both from falling over and balanced. A column of rock rose up to swallow that, too, and she released it in shock, only for heavy chains of earth to capture her wrists and render her completely immobile. 

She finally looked up to see who it was that had bested her, and she was astounded to see a small girl standing on a small hill overlooking the clearing in which the small battle had taken place. Had she done this?

"Oh," groaned General Iroh, drawing Song Lee's attention to him. After she'd knocked him out of the way, he hadn't gotten up again, and hadn't been retrained. As it was, he was massaging his bottom, and his beard was a mess. "That really hurt my tailbone."

When Song Lee returned, Nanfang Zhuque's reigns safely in hand (he hadn't been able to run too far), General Iroh was still attempting to build a fire. The girl was sitting in a crouch, which reminded Song Lee of her own preferred way of sitting on the ground.

"You're an earthbender," said Song Lee, tying Nanfang Zhuque to a tree nearby.

General Iroh had invited the girl to have tea with them, which Song Lee actually had thought he would do. She'd released Song Lee from the earth, proving that she had been the one to defeat her. Song Lee kept a hand on the hilt of her sword, though it was less in case she'd need to use it against the girl and more to assure herself that it was still there and she hadn't lost it to the earth, after all. Being without her sword made her feel helpless, and there were few things she hated more than feeling helpless.

"Yep," said the girl.

Song Lee marveled at the girl's eyes. They were large and silvery-white, and they had a strange unseeing sheen over them that reminded Song Lee of the reflection of the moon on the ocean in the South Pole. They also had dark shadows under them, but Song Lee ignored those. She had them under her own eyes more often than not. 

"You're blind," she said as she settled into her own crouch next to the girl. "Right?"

"Yep," said the girl again, although this time her voice was different. "Do you want me to beat you again to prove it."

Song Lee didn't feel threatened at all. "No. You're a very good earthbender."

"Niece—" started General Iroh, but then the girl interrupted him. 

"What, for a little blind girl?"

"No. You're just a very good earthbender. I've seen much worse from adults who _can_ see."

The edges of the girl's lips turned up. Song Lee was pleased that she could get her to smile.

"I'm Toph," said the girl.

"I am Song..." she started, and then she trailed off. She remembered when Prince Zuko had mentioned it was weird that the two of them shared a name, and decided that just Song would be fine. "And that is my uncle. Mushi." She still didn't like his cover name, but it was an important part of him now that he was a fugitive.

Toph laughed. "I like that name," she said.

"Thank you," said General Iroh, who had finally gotten the fire going without using his bending. He looked at Song Lee with an entirely new expression that she could never hope to understand. 

General Iroh started a pot of tea for him in the girl. He offered to make some for Song Lee as well, but they'd finished the last of the jasmine tea off at the cave when he'd helped her calm down after Zuko had left, so she wasn’t interested. It was probably a good thing she didn't want any, because that meant Toph could have the cup that General Iroh had fashioned for her.

He offered Toph the cup after he filled it. When she didn't take it, he said, "Here's your tea." Then he added, "You seem a little too young to be traveling alone."

Toph finally took the cup, and she said, "You seem a little too old."

General Iroh laughed at that. Once again, Song Lee failed to tell what was very funny. "Perhaps I am," he said. "But I have the beautiful Song to help me along."

Song Lee didn't believe that _beautiful_ was a word that could be used to accurately portray her, but she said nothing of it.

"I know what you're thinking," said Toph. Song Lee tilted her head. "I look like I can't handle being by myself."

"I wasn't thinking that," said General Iroh. He looked at Song Lee, who stared vacantly back until he added, "Song Lee wasn't thinking that, either."

"Oh," she said. "No, I wasn't thinking that."

"You wouldn't even let me pour my own cup of tea," said Toph, taking a sip from her cup.

"Oh," said Song Lee again. "He _never_ lets anyone else pour tea."

General Iroh glared at her again, and he said, "I poured your tea because I wanted to, and for no other reason."

"You're a powerful bender," said Song Lee, suddenly thoughtful as she wondered who could mistake the girl for someone who looked like she couldn't handle herself. "I think you can do much more than merely handle being on your own."

"Well, most people see me and think I'm weak," said Toph. "They want to take care of me. But I can take care of myself _by_ myself."

"You sound like my nephew," said General Iroh. Song Lee looked at him, her mind suddenly caught on thoughts of Prince Zuko. "Always thinking you need to do things on your own without anyone's support. There is nothing wrong with letting people who love you help you."

That certainly did sound like Prince Zuko, Song Lee thought, and she thought it sounded a little like Toph, too.

"Not that I love you," added Iroh. "I just met you."

Toph laughed. "So, where is your nephew?" she asked. "And, what, is he Song's brother?"

"No," said Song Lee automatically, and then she winced.

"He's her cousin," replied General Iroh smoothly. "And we've been tracking him, actually."

"Is he lost?"

Song Lee shook her head, but General Iroh said, "Yes, a little bit. His life has recently changed and he's going through very difficult times. He's trying to figure out who he is, and he went away."

"But he knows where he is," said Song Lee. "So he can't be lost."

"Well, he's lost in that he doesn't quite know what to _do."_

"But that means he's _confused,_ not lost."

General Iroh sighed. "It's an expression."

"Not a very good one."

Toph giggled, and they both turned their attention back to her. "So," she said. "Now you're following him."

General Iroh let the argument drop, and he said, "I know he doesn't want us around right now, but if he needs us, we'll be there."

"Your nephew is lucky, even if he doesn't know it," said Toph. Song Lee smiled, and Toph placed her empty cup on the ground and stood. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," said General Iroh. "Sharing tea with a fascinating stranger is one of life's true delights."

"No, thank you for what you said," she replied. "It helped me."

He smiled. "I'm glad."

Song Lee rose, too. "I very much enjoyed meeting you," said Song Lee, who bowed. "If you could read, I would offer to write to you. As it is, I hope that you will become known for your abilities rather than your disability."

Toph smiled. "I liked meeting you too, Song. Thanks for the fight you put up. It was almost challenging."

"Perhaps if we meet again on equal terms, I will beat you."

Toph laughed at that. "Maybe," she said. She turned to leave, but then she turned back and added, "Oh, and about your nephew? Maybe you should tell him that you need _him_ , too."

And with that, she was gone.

"I liked her," said Song Lee.

"Me, too."

"Back to tracking your nephew?"

"Well, _Song_ , he's your cousin, you know."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "We look nothing alike."

"And yet I remain your uncle."

Song Lee shook her head, and went to untie Nanfang Zhuque from the tree.

The world was blurry, the ground hard beneath him. Zuko couldn't see straight. Fighting Azula was just too much. He may have been two years older, but he was severely outmatched. He was going to die among the dust of a ruined Earth Kingdom village.

The world was blocked out by Iroh, who appeared above him, face panicked.

"Uncle," he said, his voice so quiet that he could barely hear it himself.

"Get up!" yelled Iroh, pulling on his arm. As he sat up, the world regained its blinding focus.

Song Lee was nowhere to be found, but Zuko pushed her to the back of his mind as he grabbed Iroh's hands and let him haul him to his feet. 

A new girl had appeared in the midst of the battle, shorter than even the Avatar and wearing clothes made in the Earth Kingdom. She was working with the Avatar and his Water Tribe friends. Zuko didn't like working with the group, but against his sister, he had no other choice. 

Azula, finally recognizing that she was outnumbered, attempted to escape, but Iroh blocked her way. She bounced back into the open, and that was precisely when the swordsman appeared—the one who had cleared their way on the dock that first day when Azula had tried to capture him and his Uncle. The wing wasn't painted on his cheek this time, but Zuko recognized him immediately. The Black Wing. 

The Black Wing cut through a blast of fire from Azula with her sword, which Zuko hadn't known was possible to do, and then he stood between Zuko and the small Earth Kingdom girl as everyone closed in on Azula at once, cornering her.

"Well, look at this," said Azula, her eyes narrowing as they took in the sight of all seven of them. "Enemies and traitors all working together. I'm done."

And then she did something none of them expected—she raised her hands in the symbolic gesture of surrender.

"I know when I'm beaten," she said. "You got me. A princess surrenders with honor."

Zuko didn't think Azula had ever done anything with honor, much less surrender with it, but he had no idea how she was going to get out of the situation she'd gotten herself into. He kept his stance steady and his gaze on his sister, but in the back of his mind he was panicking, wondering what the Black Wing was doing at his side.

That was when Azula moved to shoot lightning straight at his uncle.

Everything happened at once. Time slowed, and Zuko felt his heart stop as the blast hit Iroh, and his throat burned—he realized that he was screaming. At the same time, he shot fire at his sister, and the Water Tribe girl shot water, and her brother threw his boomerang, and the Earth Kingdom girl rose a column of earth, and the Avatar shot air. But the Black Wing shot up with the aid of the Earth Kingdom girl's earthbending, using his momentum to propel himself over the mass of elements as Azula used her bending to create a shield of blue fire that erupted in an explosion that seemed to swallow both herself and the Black Wing as the other elements hit it.

When the smoke cleared, both Azula and the Black Wing were gone. 

Zuko didn't care. He didn't care that his sister was gone, that the swordsman had disappeared again, that the Avatar was _right there._ His Uncle was right there, too, and he had been hurt. Because of _Zuko._

He heard the Avatar and his little gang of friends approach from behind. "Get away from us!" he said without turning around.

"Zuko, I can help!" he heard the Water Tribe girl say.

In one movement, Zuko wheeled himself around and shot a wave of fire over their heads, hoping to scare them away. _"Leave!"_ he screamed.

They did.

He was glad. 

Song Lee, dressed as the so-called Black Wing, chased after Princess Azula. Rage did not burn in her heart, though her head was a cacophony of confusion and fear. She was desperate to see if General Iroh and Prince Zuko and daring Toph were okay, but first she needed to catch Princess Azula.

The chase went on for what felt like kilometers but was more likely a couple hundred meters over the grassland. Song Lee was taller than the princess, so she was gradually beginning to catch up when Azula finally halted where the grass met the trees of a forest, turned, and shot an arcing, sweltering blast of blue fire at her.

It was easy enough to dodge. Fire always followed a certain behavior, though that behavior was a lot more controlled with Princess Azula than it seemed to be with anyone else. Under her teacher, Song Lee had often sparred with another student, a firebender named Akio who was eager to combine his bending talents with swordplay. Though he was her age, he was another boy who didn't like her very much. When they had sparred, Song Lee had managed to beat him in every battle, except for once, but she had been tired and hungry and he had used both his firebending and his sword against her. She was used to fighting with firebenders as a result, which was how she'd been able to help Prince Zuko and General Iroh escape from the dock.

The problem, she knew, was that Princess Azula was a much more talented firebender than Akio was.

The minutes stretched on. Both girls were silent. Princess Azula shot fire that Song Lee was able to dodge, cut through, or block. Song Lee tried to get close, but within a certain radius, Princess Azula was too dangerous, even for her sword. The fight for Song Lee was entirely defensive, and she know that with enough time, Princess Azula would kill her.

So she broke the silence and said, "You know, I don't believe you could beat me in a fight in which you couldn't use your bending."

It was a silly taunt, inconsequential, though it had won her many fights against Akio in the past. She had never thought it would work.

"Usually, such a phrase wouldn't tempt me," said Princess Azula. Her voice raked goosebumps down Song Lee's back. "But just this once, I'll comply."

Song Lee hesitated, confused.

"Oh, I know you, Song Lee," she continued. She was smiling, except Princess Azula's smile reminded her very much of Mio's. "I've done my research. If I thought you were an actual problem, it would be your name and face on those wanted posters instead of the so-called _Black Wing."_

Song Lee said nothing.

The princess opened her arms wide, exposing her abdomen. "Fight me, then."

With no signs of deception, Song Lee charged, finally entering Princess Azula's danger-radius. In the next moment, though, a screaming, almost imperceptible whistle streaked through the air, and Song Lee shifted her weight and tried to dodge whatever it was, but she felt a white-hot pain cut through her side, just above her hip. She gasped and dropped to one knee, her free hand moving to press against the cut.

Princess Azula grabbed Song Lee's other wrist in a tight grip, forcing her to drop her sword. It was just like what Prince Zuko had done to take the broadsword man's swords in the village they'd begged in. As the comparison shot through her head, her hood was pulled from her head and her mask was ripped from her face.

She didn't recognize the expression on the Princess's face, but she didn't like it.

"Goodbye, Song Lee," she said. "You're going to be even less of a problem very soon."

And then she was gone.

Song Lee didn't know why the Princess had left her alive, but at the moment she didn't care. She checked the hand that was pressed to her side, and it came away bloody. With no one around, Song Lee pulled her coat and shirt up and pushed the waistband of her pants down to inspect the cut. It was a shallow wound, probably caused by a hidden throwing knife that the princess must have thrown. It wasn't severe, but it hurt a _lot_ more than Song Lee thought it should.

She slowly stood, and then she inhaled sharply through clenched teeth. It _really_ hurt a lot more than she thought it should, but it didn't matter. She needed to get back. She had lost the princess, and she could no longer push her worry for General Iroh and Prince Zuko to the back of her mind. She needed to know that they were okay.

It was a simple thing to tear a strip of fabric from the sleeve of her coat and wrap the makeshift bandage around her abdomen. No one would notice blood against the black color of her shirt and pants and coat and belt, so she doubted it mattered, but it was a precaution she had to take. Finally, she picked up her sword, the familiarity of the feel of the hilt in her hand immediately allowing her to relax slightly, and she sheathed it. Her mask went back into a pocket. After that, it was all she could do to start limping back towards the abandoned village.

Back towards General Iroh and Prince Zuko.


	7. Yeah, I Heard You Say It Was Too Far Away

_Zuko watched Tongyi eat while he decided what he wanted to include in his next letter to Song Lee. He reached out, ready to pull away at a moment's notice, but Tongyi let Zuko run a finger over his head and down his back._

_Tongyi's scar really wasn't so fearsome once you got used to it._

_He turned away and started the letter._

**Song Lee,**

**I think you may already know how I got my scar. I don't know if you _are_ completely aware, it's not like I asked you. Just in case, though, I will tell you here. To be safe.**

_He knew that it was going to hurt to write the next part, but he wanted Song Lee to know about it. About him._

**When I was 13, I joined my Uncle in a counsel of war hosted by my father. In it, I defended the lives of some of the soldiers of the Fire Nation army, who the counsel was ready to sacrifice without a second thought. In doing so, I insulted my father. He challenged me to an Agni Kai, but I didn't realize that he would be the one I was supposed to fight. I refused to fight him. He burned me. I was banished from the Fire Nation, and though my Uncle is still welcomed back, he has chosen to stay with me. I, however, can't return home and regain my honor until I capture the Avatar. Nothing has been more important for over two years.**

**Today, something changed. I participated in another Agni Kai, this one against a man named Captain Zhao. I defeated him with the support of my Uncle. I have never been victorious before, not like this. It brings me hope.**

**Tongyi let me pet him today. It was a far cry from him trying to bite me when he delivered the first letter. I think he was probably just distracted by the cake I gave him, but it's possible that he's grown used to my presence, at least a little bit. If I could speak Falcon, I would ask him which it is, but since I can't, I'll just settle for what he gives me. It's another victory.**

**Thanks for not telling anyone about the Avatar. The reason the Agni Kai took place at all was because Captain Zhao found out about my failure in the South Pole. The beacon was definitely a sign of the Avatar's return, by the way; I almost had him, but he escaped. He's just a child, but he's a more powerful bender than anyone I have ever known. I'm ashamed to tell you that I underestimated him. It will not happen again, but I would like to stay out of trouble to the best of my ability until I can turn the Avatar over to my father.**

**You're unforgettable in all of the best ways. I would never try to insult you.**

**It is decided, then. Once I can return home, I will make sure to stop at your father's naval base so that I can arrest the cook. I would naturally also visit you and your father. My Uncle and I really enjoyed our time there. My Uncle and your father could play Pai Sho while we stargazed, and then I would finally be able to return home. Don't worry about Tongyi not getting enough cake, by the way; he gets plenty here. The cook seems to enjoy having the excuse to bake, even though he might be a little bit insulted that I feed it directly to a messenger falcon. He doesn't exactly attack me with knives, though.**

**Thanks, also, for your theories on celestial lights. I thought they were interesting, even though I didn't understand half of what you wrote. You're a lot smarter than anyone else I know. I envy you for that. Are they all your own theories? Do you share them with anyone else?**

_He paused, and he dug through the various compartments under the surface of his deck, searching for the second letter she'd sent him. He held it up, read it over, and put it back where he had found it._

**I'd also love to hear about the schematics of a supernova, if you're willing to write it all down.**

_It wasn't much, but if asking her about the stars made her happy, then it wasn't much of an effort on his part._

**I eagerly await your reply,**

**Zuko**

_Tongyi had finished eating by then, so while the ink dried, Zuko tried petting him again. To his surprise, Tongyi bowed his head and nuzzled into Zuko's hand. He didn't know exactly how to respond to that, but he did keep petting him. It seemed like the right thing to do. Tongyi's feathers were smooth and glossy in some places and soft in other places, and Zuko once again admired the golden and black undertones among the scarlet coloring. Under the light of the candles, Tongyi seemed like he was shimmering._

_When the letter had dried completely, Zuko rolled it up and slipped it inside Tongyi's carrier. The ship was still docked at Captain Zhao's port, but from the shouting among the crew, he assumed the repairs were finished and they were about to take off. He sent Tongyi off and watched as the messenger falcon turned south and started its flight back to Song Lee._

* * *

The air was dry, but Zuko was sure that they were safe, at least for a little while. He'd dragged his Uncle into one of the abandoned, fire-damaged buildings, praying it wouldn't collapse around them. It didn't. 

The memory of Iroh getting struck by lightning too quickly to be able to redirect it flashed again and again through Zuko's mind with no reprieve. He felt so guilty, though he knew it hadn't been his fault. That stomach-in-knots feeling had tightened considerably, making him feel nauseous. 

He looked up suddenly from where he was sitting, his eyes side, face pale, and limbs still trembling with fear and fatigue. Out of the corner of his eye he'd noticed movement, and he flinched as made eye contact with the Black Wing, who was perched on the windowsill. He made no move to come further inside, rather remaining curled up with his arms around his legs like a bird waiting in apprehension on a branch.

Zuko blinked and peered at his face. The mask had been discarded, so his—her—face was clearly recognizable, if only from the gaunt, narrow slant of her jaw and the perfect arc of her nose. 

"Song Lee," said Zuko, startled. He had forgotten all about her after the battle with his sister, though it appeared that she had been there, after all. "You're the Black Wing?"

She grunted, her storm-cloud eyes sliding from him to Iroh's unconscious body. "It's such a silly name," she said. He melted inside, not realizing until just then how much he had missed hearing her toneless voice. "I like yours a lot better."

"Mine?"

"The Blue Spirit. It's a much better alias."

From some reason, Zuko blushed. To cover it up, he coughed and said, "I thought you were a boy," which he knew as soon as he said it that it was the wrong the to say.

Song Lee's eyes snapped back to meet his. They didn't harden or narrow, but they were lacking a vulnerability that Zuko could have sworn had just been there. "Do you still think that?" she asked, her voice betraying no more emotion than usual.

"Of course not."

"Good."

"You're a very good fighter."

Her gaze sifted back to Iroh. "I know."

A stiff silence filled the room that Zuko was sure only felt awkward to him. He was still struggling to process that Song Lee had been the Black Wing all along, that the sword she carried around was more than just for show. It had been her that had fought off all of the Fire Nation soldiers on the dock, so when he and Iroh found her at Song' the nurse's house, she hadn't been surprised to see them. She had chased after Azula when she'd escaped, and had returned alive and unhurt. _Dangerous,_ said that voice in his mind again, and this time, he agreed.

Song Lee was the first to break the silence. "Is he going to be okay?"

Zuko turned his thoughts back towards the crisis at hand, looking away from the window and back at his Uncle. He would need to wake him soon, but he'd already wrapped bandages around Iroh's chest and shoulder to the best of his ability. He figured that would help somewhat. "He's hurt," said Zuko, his voice softening. "Very badly. But he'll live."

"You should make him tea for when he wakes up."

He grimaced. "I'm no good at making tea."

"I can guarantee that I'm worse."

"Fine," he said. "In a minute." Just then, though, he couldn't bear to be away from Iroh, even if just for a moment.

Song Lee moved. Zuko was careful not to stare at her again, but he was aware of her every movement as she made her way to the spot next to him before finally settling down in a crouch, ready to take off, he assumed, at a moment's notice. 

He would never, ever admit it to everyone, but in that moment, he was more grateful than anything that she was with him again.

Half an hour later, the teapot was boiling from its place next to the fire. He'd found some tea leaves in Song Lee's ostrich-horse's saddlebag, and since he was the one to make the tea, Song Lee was supposed to wake Iroh. They hadn't talked a lot since she'd returned but it was obvious she hadn't captured Azula. Zuko didn't mind. He didn't think anyone could capture Azula. He was just relieved that Song Lee was still alive.

Song Lee hovered next to his Uncle after she returned to a crouch. Iroh mumbled something on the edge of an exhale, and Song Lee pressed one reluctant finger against his cheek. "General Iroh," she said, and Zuko perked up her use of such a formality. Why did she still use it?

It didn't matter. Iroh didn't wake.

"General Iroh?" This time, she tapped the base of her hand against Iroh's forehead. 

Iroh didn't wake.

Finally, Song Lee flicked his ear and said, "Uncle!"

With that, Iroh's eyes snapped open, and Song Lee scuttled back to give him room. Iroh looked at her, and then he met Zuko's gaze. He was confused and disoriented.

"You were unconscious," said Zuko by way of explanation. Song Lee nodded along, shaking her hands out and playing with her fingers. "Azula did this to you."

Iroh attempted to sit up and winced. Song Lee went still as she allowed Iroh the use of her arm to pull himself up. After that, though, she retreated to the corner she had already designated as hers. 

"It was a surprise attack," said Zuko, his eyes momentarily drawn to Song Lee as she settled down again. Her hair, which was still short but was beginning to curl over her ears, seemed almost brown, though that was probably because she'd bumped her head against the door frame on her way out of the fire-damaged building while she'd been helping him look for the tea and had knocked dust onto her head. 

"Somehow," said Iroh, "that's not so surprising." He shifted in his place against the wall. His voice seemed strained and rough, but it was a relief to hear him again, too.

"The tea," whispered Song Lee.

Zuko picked up one of the cups, which he'd already poured the tea into, and handed it to his Uncle. "I hope I made it the way you like it," he said. "Song Lee helped me find it. Oh, and she wasn't able to catch Azula, but she returned safely."

"I apologize for my inadequacy," she said.

"I doubt it was your fault," said Iroh, smiling at her as he accepted the cup of tea. He took a sip from the cup, and then he made an odd, strangled noise as his expression cartwheeled through a series of emotions too fast for Zuko to make sense of any of them. "Mm, good," he said, and he took another sup. "That was very, uh... bracing."

Zuko was pleased with himself. Perhaps he should make tea more often. Zuko refilled his Uncle's cup and offered some to Song Lee, who declined, saying, "It's not jasmine."

"So, Uncle, I've been thinking," said Zuko. "It's only a matter of time before I run into Azula again."

"We," said Song Lee from her corner.

"Before _we_ run into Azula again. I'm going to need to know more advanced firebending if I— _we_ —want to stand a chance against her." Zuko paused there, then added, "I know what you're going to say: she's my sister, and I should be trying to get along with her."

"No," said Iroh. "She's crazy and she needs to go down." Zuko looked at him, surprised, and then he glanced at Song Lee, who was smiling.

"It's time to resume your training," said Iroh as he attempted to stand, a grimace on his face.

Zuko nodded, his stomach-knot easing just enough for him to feel the restless ocean of excitement shifting there instead. It was time.

The three of them had moved from the village to a shack outside of it alongside the two ostich-horses. It was overlooking a cliff, which General Iroh thought was the best place to practice lightning-bending. Song Lee trusted him. It wasn't like she knew more than him on the subject of lightning-bending.

For once, Song Lee didn't feel needlessly restless. She didn't feel the urge to shift or rock or constantly move around to prove that her body still worked. She was perfectly fine to sit with her back against the raised shack and watch. The wound in her side didn't hurt nearly as much as it had when she'd limped back to the village, but she felt strangely drained. She knew that she had neither slept or eaten much since Zuko had left them behind, and she had exerted herself quite a bit while fighting Toph and Azula, but it was still an odd feeling. She suspected that it was contributing to her lack of restlessness, but she pushed it out of her mind. Her head was resting on the wall behind her as she watched General Iroh and Prince Zuko, her gaze careful.

"There is energy all around us," General Iroh was saying. "The energy is both yin and yang; positive energy and negative energy. Only a select few firebenders can separate these energies. This creates an imbalance. The energy wants to restore balance and in a moment the positive and negative energy come crashing back together."

General Iroh clapped his hands together to demonstrate his point.

"You provide release and guidance, creating lighting."

He held out a hand, and Prince Zuko stepped back. Suddenly, the air changed, and Song Lee leaned forward as lightning began to form around General Iroh as he rotated his hands, which were composed into points, around himself. It was incredible. The light from the stark blue electricity cast uneven shadows over the general's body, and for a moment, he seemed like a being from another world.

The thought had barely passed through Song Lee's mind when General Iroh pushed his hand over the side of the cliff and lightning streaked through his fingers and arced through the air. 

It was breathtaking, quite literally. Song Lee had to take a second to compose herself.

"I'm ready to try it!" said Prince Zuko.

General Iroh rubbed his injured shoulder, and Song Lee tilted her head as she wondered if the lightning-bending affected the burn he'd gotten from lightning in the first place. "Remember," General Iroh said to Prince Zuko, "once you separate the energy, you do not command it. You are simply its humble guide. Breathe first."

Song Lee's gaze returned to Prince Zuko, who closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. She matched his breath, and then he was moving his hands around himself like General Iroh had. With the exception of the presence of ethereal lightning, he matched his uncle's movements perfectly. He released a shout that startled Song Lee, and then he shoved his hand out over the cliff.

The air exploded, and Prince Zuko flew backwards.

Despite her fatigue, Song Lee was at his side in seconds. Prince Zuko was both alive and conscious, much to her relief, and she leaned back as he sat up and looked at his uncle.

General Iroh shook his head.

It was precisely at that moment that Tongyi swooped down and landed on her shoulder. 

She immediately stood, shocked beyond belief, and General Iroh helped his nephew stand. "It's Tongyi," said Prince Zuko, his voice somehow raspier than usual. "He's okay."

His words were a confirmation that she wasn't hallucinating, and Song Lee felt relief sweep through her. "It is," she said, reaching up to pet the falcon's neck. "And he is." Tongyi nuzzled his head against Song Lee's ear.

She realized that she was smiling. She didn't care.

"There's a letter in the carrier," said General Iroh.

"Hm," replied Song Lee, but then she sighed and reached up to take the letter from its cylinder. With that, Tongyi jumped from Song Lee's shoulder and flew to Prince Zuko's.

"Oh," he said. "I'm sorry. I don't have any cake."

Tongyi, of course, could not understand their words anymore than they could understand his, but he eventually got the idea, and after letting Prince Zuko pet him, he flew over to perch on the roof above where the ostrich-horses were resting.

Song Lee was gazing down at her letter, confused. She'd assumed that it would have been her eleventh letter to Prince Zuko, but instead, it was addressed to her.

The air inside of the shack overlooking the cliff they had just been practicing on was stale, but Iroh managed to open all of the windows and build a small fire. Song Lee claimed a corner and kind of curled up where she was, her knees drawn up to her chest and her chin resting on her knees as she read the letter. The firelight made the shadows in the shack uneven, despite the moderately bright atmosphere outside, and the shadow of her letter covered about the same part of her face as her mask did. Her eyes, though, seemed to catch the firelight.

Iroh had decided that they should take a brief brake from firebending so that Zuko could recuperate and Song Lee could read her letter. Zuko thought it looked important, though he wondered why someone would use her own messenger falcon to deliver a letter to her. What if it was a trick?

He didn't think it was. But what if?

Iroh made himself and Zuko some more tea while Song Lee's eyes slowly made their way over the letter. Zuko watched her carefully, and as her gaze seemed to start-and-stop on every character, he wondered how difficult it was for her to read and respond to the replies he had sent her. 

Finally, Song Lee rolled the letter up again and moved closer to the fire, crouching across from Zuko and Iroh. For a moment, she said nothing, and Zuko wondered if the letter hadn't been so important, after all.

But then she opened her mouth, hesitated, and whispered, "My mother's dead."

"Oh, Song Lee," said Iroh with a sigh that seemed to make his body sag. "I am sorry."

Zuko blinked, and then he frowned. "What?"

"My mother's dead," she said, clearing her throat and raising her voice. "As I'm not eighteen yet, I'm an orphan now. My aunt wants me to come home. Her home, anyway, the one in the Fire Nation. She wishes to take care of me, I suppose."

Zuko exhaled. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. He had no idea what to say, what to do. Most people liked hugs, right? But he was in no place to give her one. And, besides, she never seemed to like physical contact. 

She seemed to be holding together, though. Her expression was still inscrutable, and her eyes seemed about as uncaring and tired as always, though they were fixed on the fire. 

"Wait," said Iroh. "Song Lee, what about your father?"

"What about him?"

"We saw him a couple months ago. Surely you can't be an orphan if he's still alive."

Song Lee looked away from the fire and said nothing.

"Oh," said Iroh again, this time closing his eyes and running a hand down his face. "Oh, no."

"What happened?" asked Zuko.

Song Lee lost her calm disposition as she looked at him, not quite meeting his eyes. He remembered the rare show of exuberance she had displayed mere minutes before at the return of Tongyi, but it was long gone. Instead, it had been replaced with a quiet, solemn look of grief that blanketed her expression in an almost imperceptible show of sorrow at the mention of her father. 

The sight of it knocked the breath out of his lungs.

"Shortly after you left," she said, still looking at him but not quite meeting his gaze, "my father got sick."

Iroh dropped his hand from his face and gave his full attention to Song Lee, and Zuko leaned forward.

"It was a slow sickness. At first, we simply thought he hadn't been eating enough, sleeping enough. We thought it would go away. But it got worse instead. I told no one until he became too weak to get out of bed, because he made a lot of enemies, especially among some of the higher-ranking Fire Nation officers."

"Like Admiral Zhao," said Zuko.

"He was just Captain Zhao then," she said. Her voice was still toneless, but it was the softest he had ever heard it. "He always called me a boy, even when I corrected him, you know. But yes. Then the Fire Lord passed over my father and made Zhao an admiral because, by then, it was obvious that my father was in no position to take up a new post. I... My aunt wanted him to come stay with her, but he... I had to watch him die before I could send his body to her."

Zuko pressed his hands against his mouth, and Song Lee turned her gaze to the base of the fire.

"I know how to sail. My father and I used to go sailing sometimes. I packed some supplies and left the naval base and went to the Fire Nation. My aunt knew to expect us, and she took his body from me. I didn't stay for the funeral, because that's when I got your reply to my ninth letter, Zuko."

"So you left to find us," said Iroh.

"Yes," said Song Lee. "I wrote the tenth and eleventh letters as I sailed to the Earth Kingdom to find you. And I did, though I guess it wasn't the best scenario I found you in."

"Were Song and her mother really family friends?" asked Iroh, leaning forward.

"Friends of my aunt."

"And your aunt wants you back home?" asked Zuko.

"Yes," she said, looking at him again, this time meeting his gaze. "But I'm not going."

Zuko didn't blink or look away, unable to be the one to break eye contact. "Uh, w-why not?"

"My loyalty is with you," she said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "I won't just leave you."

"You what end?" asked Iroh, and Song Lee finally looked away from Zuko, who felt like he could breathe again.

"Until you are able to return home," she said, "or until you find a new place to call home. I can take care of myself, and my aunt knows that."

A brief quiet filled the room.

"What about your mother?" asked Iroh.

Zuko had forgotten about that part.

Song Lee looked away from the fire and turned her gaze to the ceiling. She started playing with her fingers, though her movements were slow and she didn't lapse into her constant state of restless movement. "My aunt didn't tell me how she died," she said, and her expression morphed back into one of a passive indifference, not at all similar to the grief she had shown while speaking of her father.

Iroh seemed to notice that, too, and he exchanged a worried glance with Zuko. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and said, "Zuko and I will leave you alone. We can practice some more. I'm... I am sorry, Song Lee."

She looked at him, somehow seeming even more tired than she had moments earlier. "It's not your fault," she said. She stood. "I'll watch." She had disappeared through the doorway before Zuko could even make his way to his feet.

He and his Uncle exchanged another glance, but then they followed her outside, pushing aside their concern to put their focus on another lightning-bending exercise. 

An hour or so later, the sky was beginning to get dark. The skies in the distance were even darker, because they were heavy with storm clouds. Neither Prince Zuko nor General Iroh seemed to notice, but Song Lee did. General Iroh was attempting to teach Prince Zuko how to redirect lightning. Song Lee watched in fascination, occasionally knocking more dust into her hair as she leaned back against the wall. Tongyi was still resting.

Finally, Prince Zuko said, "I'm ready to try it with real lightning!" He said it in the exact same way he'd said it when he'd convinced General Iroh that he was ready to separate the energies and create lightning. Song Lee shook her head.

"What, are you crazy?" asked General Iroh. "Lightning is very dangerous."

"I thought that was the point: you teaching me how to protect myself from it." And just like that, his oh-so-familiar scowl was back. Song Lee smiled to herself.

"But I'm not going to shoot lightning at you!" said General Iroh. His voice, Song Lee thought, was like the edge of a sword. "If you are lucky, you will never have to use this technique at all."

Song Lee watched as Prince Zuko's gaze was drawn to the horizon she had noticed earlier, the one that was heavy with thunder and rain. They both watched as it was lit up in a flash of electricity. "Well, if you won't help me," he said, "I'll find my own lightning."

General Iroh and Song Lee said nothing as he stormed back to the shack, hopped onto his own unnamed ostrich-horse's back, and rode off towards the storm.

"I'll follow him," she said, rising. She paused and frowned as the world swayed around her, and she placed a steadying hand on the wall of the shack. Maybe she really needed to get some more sleep. 

General Iroh didn't seem to notice. "Are you sure that's wise?" he asked her. "My nephew is in a dangerous mood. He _is_ dangerous. He's literally on his way to get hit by _lightning."_

"Lightning is random," said Song Lee, letting go of the wall and meandering over to Nanfang Zhuque. As she roused him, she added, "The chances of lightning actually striking your nephew is very low. I'll be careful. Watch Tongyi for me."

When Song Lee left, General Iroh was in the middle of a staring contest with her messenger falcon.

It was easy to follow Prince Zuko. For one, it was easy to follow his ostrich-horse's tracks over the muddy ground, which were deep enough that the rain didn't fill them up or wash them away. It was also obvious where he was going. A tall mountain stood in the distance, its top seemingly shaved off, with a makeshift path winding up and around it. 

Near the top of it, a cave was set into the stone. Well, it wasn't really a cave as much as it was a rocky overhang that was in the process of sheltering Prince Zuko's ostrich-horse from the worst of the rain. Though Song Lee and Nanfang Zhuque were already soaked through completely, she left her own ostrich-horse with the other one and continued on foot. When she made it to the very top, though, she just paused and watched.

Prince Zuko was there, his back towards her, shouting up at the sky. "You've always thrown everything you could at me!" She could hear him, even from where she was, even with the wind threatening to rip his voice away from him and deposit him over the side of the cliff. "Well, I can take it! And now I can give it back!"

Song Lee disagreed, but she said nothing. She moved closer, still tentative, careful not to let him know that she was there but still hovering. Still worried.

Prince Zuko's hair was shiny with rainwater, even in the shadows of the storm. She watched as he tilted his head back, watching the lightning in the distance. "Come on!" he yelled. "Strike me! You've never held back before!"

His voice broke as he uttered the last words, and he collapsed to his hands and knees. He was shaking, completely soaked through, completely defeated.

In that moment, he didn't look like the prince of anything.

Song Lee kneeled in front of him, reaching out but not touching him. "Zuko," she said, just loud enough for him to hear her over the roar of thunder.

He looked up at her, and Song Lee realized with a crushing clarity that he was _crying._ It would have been difficult to distinguish the rainwater from the tears, but Song Lee could recognize tears anywhere.

Zuko turned his face away, covering his face with his hands, hiding his grief from her. Song Lee was not able to understand all of what he was feeling, but she didn't care. As he rocked back on his knees, bowing his head, Song Lee leaned forward and embraced him.

"Zuko."

He had thought that nothing would ever break through the hurricane of failures in his own head, but Song Lee's voice was like a beam of moonlight cutting through the gusts of wind. He looked up at her. Her eyes were the exact same color as the clouds, but a million times more intense.

He forced himself to hide from her, to lean away and cover his face. He couldn't handle his own despair. How could he push that onto her? How could she help him when he couldn't even help himself? He didn't want her help. He didn't want to have to bear her judgement. He didn't want...

She hugged him.

Her arms were awkward, as if they were more suited to restrain someone or to fight a mighty battle than to express affection, but he didn't care. This was a new feeling, and though it was awkward and cold and wet on the outside, it was almost familiar, because it was exactly what he would expect from Song Lee. And he hugged her back. Of course he hugged her back. Her body, all angles and muscles and limbs built like bundles of sticks tied together, was gentle against his, smoothed out by her clothes and her embrace. She was so much taller than him, but that made it easier for him to hug her tightly, her hair tickling against the top of his forehead and the edge of his scar.

He closed his eyes. He liked this feeling.

She was the one who pulled away, who brought her fingers up to his face, cradling it in her grip. Her eyes, which were still bearing into his, still had an intensity he could barely fathom. She was frowning. "The skies aren't sentient. They will never listen to a man, no matter how strong or powerful he is. Even the Avatar cannot bend the heavens."

"I can't do _anything,"_ he replied. He hated beyond belief how broken he sounded. He wouldn't be able to bear her judgement.

"You're only sixteen," she said, moving closer, her face bare centimeters from his. Her fingers were like ghosts against his rain-slick cheeks. "You can do many things, and you have done many things, and you will do many things. There is nothing that will change that, whether the skies will listen to you or not."

It was an obvious attempt to make him feel better, even if his mind was barely able to process her words when she was that close to him. His eyes fluttered almost-closed, and he smiled at her.

She smiled back and slowly released his face. 

This time, he hugged her, his arms around her waist and his face buried in her strong, unyielding shoulder. Her arms sprang up to hold him again. They were still awkward, but he didn't care. He burned every brush of contact between them into his memory. 

"Thanks," he mumbled against her coat.

He didn't know how she heard him, but she said, "You're welcome."

On the way down the mountain, Song Lee rode her ostrich-horse beside his. The rain had finally stopped falling—not that it mattered, because they were completely soaked through—but the ostrich-horses didn't slip on the mud. They knew what they were doing.

"I don't want to name it," said Zuko again. He felt embarrassed that Song Lee had seen him like that, in such a state of brokenness, but he knew that she wouldn't tell anyone. And she hadn't seemed to judge him for it at all.

"But you _have_ to name it!" said Song Lee. She was referring to his ostrich-horse, because it was apparently the most important thing in the world. "It's your companion. You can't just travel with a nameless companion!"

"I've made it this far, haven't I?"

Song Lee rolled her eyes. "Ugh," she said.

"Well, what's _your_ ostrich-horse's name, then?"

"Nanfang Zhuque."

"What a mouthful."

"It's—"

"No, wait, let me guess," said Zuko. "It's a constellation, right?"

The smile she gave him was dazzling. "How did you know?" she asked.

"Well," he replied, beyond proud of himself for once, "I like to think I know you pretty well after traveling with you this far."

Song Lee nodded. She was still smiling.

Zuko made himself look away so that she didn't catch him staring. He turned his gaze out, over their view of the Earth Kingdom. "Why that particular constellation?" he asked.

Song Lee didn't reply.

Zuko looked back at her, but his confusion morphed into alarm to see her swaying in her seat, her eyes suddenly half lidded and rolled back into her skull. Before she could topple off of her ostrich-horse, the name of which he'd already forgotten, Zuko grabbed her shoulder and pushed her up, upsetting both ostrich-horses in the process.

"What?" she asked, suddenly wide awake. "What are you doing?

"What's wrong?" he asked swiftly.

"Huh?"

He raised his voice. _"What's wrong?"_

"Nothing's wrong!" she said. Her eyes were wide. "What are you talking about?"

"You almost—"

"I'm tired."

So she did know what he was talking about. "Are you—"

"I'm tired. That's all."

Song Lee stared at him until he looked away, and he let the matter drop. Song Lee wasn't going to tell him anything she didn't want to. He doubted she knew anything _was_ off, anyway. 

But he knew that something was wrong. He just hoped that it wasn't too dangerous.


	8. Was It Too Far Away?

**The Fourth Letter**

_The ruination of the metal prison built for the containment of earthbenders was visible even from a distance, and the smell of coal was sharp in the air in a three-kilometer radius around it. Though Zuko knew he was in no position to judge others for their failures, he couldn't help the wave of scorn directed at the warren that washed over him._

_According to the reports of the surviving guards, the Avatar had been the one to break the earthbenders out, along with the help of his Water Tribe friends, who had been responsible for instigating the initial uprising. Zuko didn't care much about the circumstances of the escape, but that familiar impatience knotting at the base of his stomach, as well as that sore jaw from clenching his teeth together, were certainly felt when not one of the guards could tell him the direction the Avatar had gone in._

_The only helpful part of the stop was the necklace laying among the coals. It was definitely the Water Tribe girl's. He wondered vaguely if she had noticed it missing._

_He turned to face the setting sun, which set the sky on fire. A plan was beginning to form in the back of his mind, though it didn't crystalize quite yet. There were too many things he didn't have, too many people he had to be careful of. But he would figure it out._

_His eye focused on a part of the scarlet sky as it seemed to materialize, and he put the formation of the plan on pause while he leaned forward. It quickly became apparent that it was a messenger falcon, and though it was hard to see from a distance, Zuko could immediately tell that it was Tongyi. His stomach unknotted at the sight of him, and his heart was already lifting at the thought of Song Lee's letter._

_Zuko turned away and started back towards the ship. He had just finished ascending the ramp when Tongyi landed securely on his shoulder. The deck was otherwise deserted, so as he made his way towards his room he softened his voice and said, "Hello." He reached up and attempted to pet Tongyi, but the falcon evaded his hand. Zuko didn't mind. He assumed it had been a rough trip, and besides, at least he wasn't trying to bite him anymore._

_He pocketed the necklace, making a mental note to lay out more of a mental plan later, but for that moment he'd much rather read Song Lee's letter. He called for cake, and Song Lee's letter was open before he'd even sat down._

**Prince Zuko,**

**Congratulations on your victory against Captain Zhao. I know that name, surprisingly; he is an acquaintance of my father, though they do not get along. He neglects to refer to Captain Zhao as an enemy, but he has a very low opinion of the him. He believes that he is too obsessed with power, which I thought was odd coming from him, considering that he is the Vice Admiral of the Fire Nation Navy. I told him about the Agni Kai, anyway, and he seemed pleased.**

**I am sure that you will do whatever it takes to find and capture the Avatar. You will find away to regain your honor. The Avatar is a master of all four elements, even if he is a child. Of course you underestimated him. He is the most powerful bender in the expanse of the world, and it is impossible to fathom what he is capable of.**

_Zuko leaned back against the side of his bed with a slow exhale, letting the very tips of his fingers glide over her characters. She was so difficult to figure out._

**I am happy that Tongyi let you pet him. It took him months to get used to me. I am not sure how he acquired his scar, but my father seems to think that he came from an abusive owner. Perhaps another reason he warmed up to you so quickly is that you have matching scars. If I could speak Falcon, I would ask him. Because I cannot, I will also assume it is because you give him cake. I am glad that he gets plenty to eat when he is with you.**

**How can one be unforgettable in all of the best ways? I have only heard that word used in a negative connotation.**

**In terms of the celestial lights, I share my theories with my aunt and my teacher, both of whom live in the Fire Nation, and my father when he is not as busy. My aunt was the person who got me into astronomy in the first place. There are some scrolls and books that have inspired some of my theories, but I have gotten used to coming to my own conclusions. I doubt that I am correct in any of them, but that is mainly because I do not possess the material required to properly test them. However, it brings my great joy and accomplishment to come to the conclusions I do. Perhaps one day I will write a book about them. I have a lot to say on the subject.**

**In terms of the schematics of supernovas...**

_And again the letter stretched on. This time, she had used something other than ink to draw charts on the margins and in the breaks between sections. He wasn't sure what it was, but running his fingers over it left smudges, so he avoided that to the best of his ability. She labeled the charts and did her best to explain them, of course, and she informed him about what a supernova was, how you could tell the difference between one of them and a star in the night sky, why they were important, why she thought they were interesting. It was still confusing, and he felt like there seemed to be a lot she assumed that he knew that he really didn't, but he didn't mind at all. She drew her theories from a lot of places—her own findings, existing astronomy scrolls, star charts, world maps, religious texts, and on and on. She even referenced her aunt once. To anyone else, her letters might have seemed like the ravings of a madman, but to Zuko, he could appreciate the sheer amount of research and critical thinking she had put into the subject._

**I once again thank you for asking,** _she wrote at the end of it all._

**I eagerly await your reply.**

**Song Lee**

* * *

As they passed through a dry shrubland, it became clear to Zuko that neither Iroh nor Song Lee were doing very well. After they had left the cliff-side shack, they had been wandering listlessly on the ostrich-horses. Iroh had continued riding with Song Lee, under the argument that she was considerably lighter than Zuko and thus his own weight would provide less strain for Zhuque, which was what Song Lee called her ostrich-horse. It was a good arrangement, actually; the commotion Iroh made as they traveled kept her alert and wide awake.

Azula's lightning blast had obviously taken a lot out of his Uncle, and every step the ostrich-horse made had him groaning in pain and discomfort. And Zuko had grown used to the ever-present circles under Song Lee's eyes, but they were beginning to look a lot more like bruises. Her skin seemed more gray than brown, and she was always tired, and she spent more time with her stupid messenger falcon than she did with him or Iroh. She always insisted that she was fine, but it was becoming more and more clear that she was anything but.

"Maybe we should make camp," said Zuko.

"No, please, don't stop for me!" said Iroh, his voice muffled with agony. Then he groaned some more.

Zuko halted his ostrich-horse, which was still blissfully unnamed, and behind him, Song Lee halted Zhuque. Song Lee had said little since the three of them had left the shack, which wasn't entirely unusual, but it made him feel like she would collapse at any moment. He wished she would just tell him what was wrong. 

He watched carefully as Song Lee hopped down before Iroh could, using her new positioning to help him dismount. Iroh sat down on a flat rock, sighing and groaning to himself again, and Zuko's eyes were drawn to Tongyi as he swooped down and landed on Song Lee's shoulder. The falcon had been following them from the air, occasionally flying out of sight to hunt for his meals. Song Lee smiled at him, though her smile was muted, and she leaned on her ostrich-horse as she dug through some of their supplies. 

Zuko was aware of the way she shifted her weight so that it was Zhuque that was holding it rather than her. He was aware of every flutter of her eyes, aware of every yawn and step taken. He hadn't stopped analyzing and reanalyzing her since she'd almost fallen off of her ostrich-horse on the way down the mountain. He was also aware of how her nose had a perfect, circular curve, and of how she played with her fingers when she got even moderately stressed or anxious. Aware of her storm-cloud irises.

Song Lee stiffened and put an arm over Zhuque's back, and Zuko was so keyed in on her specific behaviors that it took him a moment to realize that both ostrich-horses had perked up, startled by something. On instinct, Zuko moved backwards, into a defensive position. The earth began shaking, almost imperceptibly. He noticed Song Lee and Tongyi melt into the shrublands and silently prayed that she wouldn't have to come out and fight. 

"What now?" asked Iroh, his voice distinctly annoyed. Zuko thought about each of his companions's apparent and sudden weaknesses. He doubted either of them would be able to hold out very long in a real fight. 

In the span of a breath, they were surrounded by men on the backs of rhinos that looked specifically bred for war. It was a sight to be seen, especially as one of the rhinos broke the hard soil beneath it by simply stomping on it.

He didn't know if they could fight off these men, especially alone. He felt a flicker of fear.

And then Iroh placed a hand on Zuko's shoulder. He relaxed slightly.

"Colonel Mongke!" said Iroh. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"If you're surprised that we're here, then the Dragon of the West has lost a few steps," said the leader—Mongke. His face was stern, and he used his weapons, a set of bracers, to throw sparks throw the air. His men readied their own weapons.

"You know these guys?" Zuko asked his uncle quietly.

"Sure," Iroh replied. "Colonel Mongke and the Rough Riders are legendary." While he talked, Zuko glanced behind them. "Each one is a different kind of weapons specialist." Song Lee and her falcon had yet to reappear. "They are also a very capable singing group."

"We're not here to give a concert, said Mongke. "We're here to apprehend fugitives!"

_Oh, no._

"Would you like some tea first? I'd love some," said Iroh. He looked at one of Mongke's men. "How about you, Kachi? I make you as a jasmine man. Am I right?"

"Enough stalling!" called Mongke. "Round 'em up!"

And the battle began.

An arrow came at Zuko's back from what was clearly an ex-Yu Yan archer. It was on fire, and in a moment, he had sensed it, turned, broken it, and burned a hole through the archer's bow. He ducked underneath some other projectile and moved to help Iroh by leaping onto Mongke's rhino, engaging in a brief duel on its back with Mongke himself.

By the time Zuko managed to kick the colonel off of the rhino, Song Lee had entered the battle as the Black Wing. She was behind the armored warrior on his own rhino, and as Zuko urged the rhino forward, he watched as she cut through the man's defenses and deflected a grenade that blew a hole in the rock Iroh had been sitting at moments before. Iroh, already on Zuko's ostrich-horse, rode by, and Zuko jumped to the ostrich-horse's back from Mongke's rhino as the Black Wing cut through the archer's pathetic attempt at melee fighting with a broken bow, but then she was safely saddled on Zhuque and riding beside them, sword still in hand. 

The armored warrior she'd fought off launched one last grenade at then, but it exploded ahead of them and they rode through the blast unharmed.

Zuko glanced at her, scanning her body for possible injuries. She looked fine, but her shoulders were tense, and she was drooping in her seat. She sheathed her sword and let her mask fall from her face, though she kept her hood up.

She looked at him, and he glanced away before she could catch him staring.

"It's nice to see old friends," said Iroh.

Zuko scowled. "Too bad you don't have any old friends that don't want to attack you."

"Hm. Old friends that don't want to attack me..."

Zuko shook his head and let his Uncle continue to drive, hoping that the Rough Riders wouldn't be able to regroup and follow them anytime soon. He looked back at Song Lee, continuing his tiny observations.

Eventually, they stopped once more for the night, and General Iroh told the two of them that he knew where to go. Song Lee didn't really care, though she was happy to finally have some sort of an end point, even if it was only temporary.

From there, Song Lee and Zuko had been the ones to drive the ostrich-horses, guided by General Iroh's directions. Before long, the shrubland gave way to open deserts. Song Lee could only guess at what the general's plans were, but she trusted him, so she didn't ask. Besides, if she _really_ needed to, she could just take Zhuque and Tongyi and leave. She didn't think that would be necessary, though.

She'd also heard that the stars were beautiful from the desert. She wondered if they were going to be staying for that long.

The day before they'd entered the desert, Song Lee had lost her appetite completely, even though it was already meager. She was beginning to suffer for it, too. She was always tired, for example, and it was difficult to sleep, and it was severely hindering her ability to fight or even focus. Every step she took got more and more difficult, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out why.

She still believed that she was simply tired. However, she was becoming increasingly worried about the wound that Azula had given her. Though it didn't hurt for the most part and it remained clean, it wasn't clotting and healing like normal cuts did. It bled more with each day. However, it was such a small cut that she wasn't really in danger of bleeding out or anything. She bled more when she was on her menstrual cycle, even.

It would probably be okay. She tried not to think about it, which was hard, because Zuko asked her about it whenever he had the chance. She didn't like people telling her what to do, and she didn't like getting into arguments, and Zuko was coming close to violating both of those things.

It was especially irritating because, technically, Zuko was a couple of months _younger_ than her. Besides, General Iroh was on the same exact ostrich-horse as him, and he _definitely_ had a problem. Getting struck by lightning could do that to a person.

Song Lee just ignored him to the best of her ability.

Finally, the desert open into a desert village, and they tied the ostrich-horses to a post outside the city limits. It wasn't a large or particularly distinct village, but in the middle sat a rapidly meting ice spring. It took General Iroh to pull her away from it.

With a village, Song Lee realized with a start, came a market.

"I'm going to go," she told Zuko and General Iroh. She dug through her pockets and found a couple copper coins, possibly enough to get what she needed. "I want to write to my aunt. And my teacher."

"Okay," said General Iroh, his expression changing. "Be careful."

"When am I not careful?" she asked, angling her head.

Zuko made a funny noise with his nose and opened his mouth, but General Iroh placed a hand on his arm and waved her on. She separated from the two, and Tongyi spiraled down to rest on her shoulder. She knew he drew a lot of stares—he was kind of enormous, and he did have a fearsome scar over an eye, and he was obvious a messenger falcon from the Fire Nation—but she didn't care. She was suddenly excited at the prospect of writing to her aunt.

She did indeed find a market. Using all of her money and all of her negligible bartering skills, she purchased a brush and an inkwell and enough parchment to write a single letter. She was disappointed that she wouldn't be able to write to Master Piandao, but then she decided that she could ask her aunt to send him her regard via Tongyi.

Song Lee wandered around the market for a little while, and then she found a quiet alley to sit down in. Using a large, thin, and flat rock she had found as a makeshift desk, she settled down and started her letter to her aunt. 

Minutes passed, and though Song Lee was hot in her layers of clothes under the sun, the heat didn't bother her as much as it did others. The sand was much worse in her opinion, but her layers protected her from the worst of it. The letter wasn't long, and Tongyi landed on her shoulder and watched over her shoulder as she told her aunt that she wouldn't be returning to her for a while.

That she had her own adventure she had to see through first.

She wished her aunt well and asked that she sent a short message to Master Piandao giving him her best wishes, and then she told her aunt about Nanfang Zhuque and how he got along well with Tongyi before writing her name at the bottom.

The characters had barely dried when Zuko burst past the alley, not even glancing down it. "Song!" he yelled.

Song Lee stood and followed him out of the alley, and Tongyi fluttered above her before landing on her shoulder again. "What's wrong?" she called after him, eyes training on the parchment as she rolled it up. She'd already put the ink and brush into her pocket.

In an instant, Zuko's hand wrapped around her wrist, and her eyes snapped up to meet his. His eyes were wide. "Come on," he said, trying to pull her along.

She frowned and ducked, using her strength to flip him, slam him against the ground, and get him to release her. She hated it when people touched her like that, and when people told her what to do. "What's wrong?" she asked again, this time leaning over him, pretending that the sudden activity didn’t make her lightheaded and suddenly short of breath.

Zuko groaned as he curled up slightly, apparently unable to take the hit, and then he scowled up at her and said, "We were recognized. We have to meet up with Uncle and hide."

"Okay," she said, unhappy that they had been recognized again. Tongyi landed on her arm, and she tucked the letter inside his carrier, and then she launched him into the sky. "Let's go," she said, helping her friend up from the ground.

Zuko led her past the ice spring, careful not to touch her this time, and eventually they made it to General Iroh and another old man that she didn't know. They were apparently waiting for them, because then the other man looked around and escorted them inside a nondescript building. Inside, it became obvious that they were in a flower shop. She wrinkled her nose at the sudden hemorrhage of scents that blasted her as she closed the door behind them. Who even needed so many flower pots in one place?

"What's going on?" she asked General Iroh. "Why can't we get the ostrich-horses and run?"

"This is important," he told her. "Guard the door, please."

"Yes, sir," she said, stiffening and pressing her hand against her sword hilt.

"It is an honor to welcome such a high-ranking member of the Order of the White Lotus," the other man said to General Iroh. "Being a Grand Master, you must know so many secrets."

Song Lee frowned at the man. Was he speaking in code?

"Now that you played Pai Sho," said Zuko, "are you going to do some flower arranging, or is this club going to offer some _real_ help?"

"You must forgive my nephew," said General Iroh to the other man. "He is not an initiate and has little appreciation for the cryptic arts."

In response, the other man knocked on the door. The slot near the top slid open, and Song Lee could the eyes of another man. "Who knocks at the guarded gate?" she heard him ask.

"One who has eaten the fruit and tasted its mysteries," replied General Iroh. More code, but a wave of fatigue washed over her from nowhere, so she didn't really care what it could mean. She leaned back against the door and watched in silence.

The door opened. General Iroh and the other man went through, but the door shut before Zuko could follow them. General Iroh opened the slot, and he said, "I'm afraid it's members only. Wait out here, you two."

Zuko crossed his arms and turned around, and Song Lee noticed his scowl was back.

She was already bored guarding the door, so she took a small pot of flowers and held them up to his face to see what he would do about it.

"Quit it," he said, but then she brushed them against his cheek and his scowl disappeared. "Stop," he said again.

Song Lee liked how his scowl was gone, even though it was familiar to her. So she picked up a different pot of flowers and tried again. 

This time, he took the pot from her and did it right back, and she sneezed as the flower petals tickled her nose and the perfume overwhelmed her senses.

She didn't realize she had fallen to the floor until Zuko had her elbow and was helping her up.

His scowl was still gone, but his expression had changed again. "Seriously, Song Lee," he said. "Look at me."

She did, but then she looked away again. 

"What's wrong?"

"I'm just tired," she said.

Zuko let go of her arm. "Stop lying," he said. His voice was different too. "You're not okay. You're not just tired. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she said. She tickled his forehead with another pot of flowers. He closed his eyes, and much to her delight, the corners of his lips turned up.

"You have pollen in your hair," he told her. "And something is _obviously_ wrong."

"You've got pollen in your hair, too."

"Didn't Uncle tell you to guard the door?"

Song Lee sighed but returned to the door. "Fine," she said. "And nothing's wrong. Seriously."

Zuko matched her sigh but didn't press anymore. She watched as he played with some of the flowers she had set down next to him, closing his eyes again. She tried to think up more ways she could make him smile.

Zuko woke with a start as the door opened. He looked around him, disoriented for a moment while he instinctively threw his arms up into defensive positions. Song Lee was still standing by the door, and her eyes were drawn to him when he moved; he was still caught off guard by how bad the shadows under her eyes were. She looked _sick._ It made him worried.

He looked at his uncle. The Pai Sho player stood behind him. "What's going on?" asked Zuko, suddenly bitter. "Is the club meeting over?"

"Everything is taken care of," Iroh replied. "We're heading to Ba-Sing-Se."

"Ba-Sing-Se? Why would we go to the Earth kingdom capital?"

"I would also like to know this," said Song Lee.

"The city is filled with refugees," said the Pai Sho player. "No one will notice three more."

Song Lee frowned. "But we're _not_ refugees."

"We're disguising ourselves, I guess," Zuko told her, and she looked at him again—or, rather, looked at the flowers next to him. "We're making sure we're unrecognizable this time."

"We can hide in plain sight there," Iroh added. "And it's the safest place in the world from the Fire Nation. Even I couldn't break through to the city."

The door opened, and Zuko looked up just as it shut behind a man, and in the span of a moment the blade of Song Lee's sword was inches from his throat. The man froze in place, eyes locked on the tall, scrawny girl who had the gall to attack him with a sword.

"No, Song Lee, he is a friend," said Iroh, his voice suddenly frantic. "Let him go."

Song Lee straightened from her own defensive position and let her sword drop from the man's neck. She didn't apologize, nor did she look away from the man as he found his way further inside the flower shop.

"I have the passports for our... guests," said the man, casting a fearful glance back at Song Lee, "but there are two men out on the streets looking for these two." At that, he motioned to Iroh and Zuko.

For a second, Zuko let himself be relieved that they didn't know Song Lee was affiliated with them.

Song Lee, Zuko, and Iroh crowded next to the flower shop's door slot and looked outside. Sure enough, an irritatingly familiar man stood outside, shoving a wanted poster with Zuko’s and Iroh's faces on it into the faces of passersby. Next to him stood his partner, and Zuko was positive that these were the men that had recognized them and started the violence in the bar.

"Who's that?" asked Song Lee, her arm pressing up against Zuko's face as she struggled to see.

"I'm not sure," said Iroh before Zuko could snap at her. "But they attacked us earlier."

"That's why Zuko ran to find me?"

"Yeah," Zuko grumbled. He exchanged a glace with his uncle. How were they going to get around the men?

Song Lee walked next to the boy she'd almost attacked with her sword as he pulled a cart of flowers behind him. It was easy for her to walk without fear, since her actual face wasn't plastered on the side of wanted posters, and she hadn't been seen with Zuko or General Iroh. It wasn't easy to simply walk, though. Her fatigue had compounded while she had guarded the flower shop's door, and unlike Zuko, she couldn't fall asleep anywhere she was.

"How long have you been traveling with those two?" asked the boy as they walked.

Song Lee tore her eyes away from the men that had been looking for Zuko and General Iroh and looked ahead, over the sand. "Maybe two weeks," she said. She didn't remember what phase the moon was in. "I think. Most days blend together."

"You're a remarkable fighter," he told her.

She looked at him then. He was barely older than her. "You haven't seen me fight," she said.

"Well, you obviously know how to use a sword."

He stopped talking, waiting, Song Lee thought, for her to say something, but she didn't.

"Are you doing okay?" he asked at last.

She scowled. "Everyone's been asking me that," she said. "I'm _fine._ I'm just _tired._ Would these flower pots break if I kicked them?"

"Um, probably."

"Okay. I won't kick them, then."

"I... Sorry for mentioning it," the boy mumbled. "If I can ask, _why_ are you traveling with these two?"

"I'm a friend of the younger one, Zuko. And General Iroh is also my friend. And my father died, so I decided to go with them. My loyalty is with Zuko."

The boy nodded. "I'm sorry about your dad."

"Well, you didn't kill him. Did you?"

"No."

"There's no reason to be sorry, then," she told him. "Can they hear us?"

"Who, the two in the flower pots?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know."

"Okay." She paused. Then she added, "I'm glad I didn't kill you."

"I'm glad you didn't kill me, too."

Song Lee smiled.

They made it out of the town, the boy complaining that Zuko and Iroh were heavy, especially when the cart had to travel over sand rather than roads. Song Lee helped him pull, and he was amazed at how strong she was. She ignored him, knowing that if she _had_ needed to kill him, he had underestimated her in many ways. Honestly, though, it felt like her strength was leaving her in waves. She didn't know what was wrong. 

Finally, they stopped, and they helped Zuko and General Iroh out of the flower pots. "I'll go get the ostrich-horses," she told them. "You probably need to stretch your legs."

"Thank you," General Iroh told her. 

Song Lee started down the dunes, back towards the village. Nanfang Zhuque and Zuko's ostrich-horse (who she really needed to name herself if Zuko wasn't going to) were near the edge of the village, and it wouldn't be hard to get there and slip out unnoticed. 

It _shouldn't_ be hard to get there and slip out unnoticed, anyway. 

As Song Lee descended the second sand dune, her legs started to feel numb, and her lungs seemed to stop working. She stopped where she was, swaying in place, staring out at the sky with dimming eyesight.

She had never felt so tired in her life.

She hummed to herself, and then her legs weren't holding her anymore. Her back was against the sand, and suddenly she was cold, but the sand was nice and warm against the back of her head, and for once she didn't hate sand. She sighed out, except then it didn't matter how nice the sand was because pain shot up through her side, making her choke on her breath and double up. She couldn't find the strength or the breath to call out; as it was, she could barely breathe.

Her eyes were blurry. She couldn't see anything, could barely feel anything, and it was like the world had gone silent.

She was so tired, and so alone.

Zuko hadn't been watching her walk back to the village. 

"Oh my gosh," he heard the man Song Lee had almost attacked with her sword say, and he looked at him. The man was looking back towards the village, a stricken expression on his face. Before Zuko could follow his line of sight, the man pushed past him, running down the dune.

Zuko looked after him, expecting to see smoke or hear screaming from the village, but his heart seemed to stop when he saw Song Lee at the bottom of the dune, spread out over the sand, a dark spot in a sea of sifting gold.

He started running, too.

Just as the man got to her and touched her arm, she doubled up, and Zuko's ears could just make out a whimper. He slid the rest of the way on his knees, and then he lifted her up in his arms to the best of her ability. Her face was slick with tears and screwed up in pain, and every breath looked like an effort. She didn't seem to be aware of him, didn't seem to hear or see him. Oh no, oh no, something was definitely wrong and he had no idea what it was.

"You have to come back to the village," the man was saying to him. "We can—"

"Are you insane?" yelled Zuko. "We'll be captured or killed, and she can't... she can't..."

He was crying, too, he realized with a start.

In the next moment, Iroh was next to him. "We must go," he said. "Thank you for your help," he told the man. "We will take care of her. The most you can do is bring us our ostrich-horses. Please—"

"I'll go," said the man breathlessly. "I'll hurry. Just..." He hesitated.

"Go!"

And the man was off.

"What's happened?" asked Iroh, taking Song Lee from Zuko.

Zuko wanted to hang on, wanted to keep her with him, but he let her go. "I don't know," he said. "I don't—I don't know. I knew she was sick, but I didn't think..."

Iroh suddenly paled. "Did she go after your sister?"

"Yeah, but she didn't—" Zuko cut himself off, and his eyes widened. "Did _Azula_ do this?"

"Help me get her coat off," said Iroh, already loosening the belt around Song Lee's waist to get to her side.

Zuko hesitated, but he knew that this was important. He helped set the sword and sheath on the sand and maneuver the cloth that served as a belt that cinched her coat off of her, and then he helped unbutton the coat itself to reveal a high-collared, long-sleeved black shirt underneath that, too. "How many layers does she _have?"_ he asked.

"It doesn't matter now," said Iroh as he pushed her shirt up. Zuko blushed at the sight of her bare stomach and waist, where her ribs were clearly visible, but then his eyes caught on more black cloth wrapped tightly around her body—makeshift bandages made from torn strips of her clothes. That explained why her coat sleeves seemed so torn.

Bandages that, when Iroh peeled them away, were covered in both dried and fresh blood.

Zuko pushed away, suddenly nauseous. "Oh my gosh," he said, his voice strangled as he held an arm up to his mouth. "What happened?"

"It was Azula," said Iroh, his eyes weary. "She poisoned a small throwing blade and caught Song Lee off guard when Song Lee was expecting fire. I believe she learned this from one of her friends."

In the rush of the moment, Mai sprung into his mind. 

"She knows that Song Lee is the Black Wing, too—maybe the only reason she isn't wanted is because of the poison," said Iroh. He was deadly serious. "Azula believes it will kill her. We need to leave _now."_

"Will she..." started Zuko. He swallowed heavily and tried again. "Will she..."

"She might die," said Iroh.

Zuko felt lost. He felt lost, and he just wanted to see Song Lee again, except normal—he wanted to see her studying him out of a corner, wanted to see her talking about the stars.

He really, really didn't want her to die.

"What can we do?" he asked. He felt useless again, only this time Song Lee wasn't there to comfort him.

"We can help, at least a little," said Iroh heavily. He looked tired, scared. "Certain teas will assist in healing. We can keep her safe and as healthy as we can. But she has to do the rest."

Zuko looked at Song Lee's face. Sand was stuck to the places where tears had been, covering up a lot of her skin. Her eyes were still open, still bleary and unseeing but still alive. She was breathing well enough, but it was obviously difficult.

Finally, the man returned. He was riding Zuko's ostrich-horse, Zhuque's reigns held tightly in his other hand. "Here," he said. "I couldn't get medicine, but I had time to grab fresh water." He handed a water skin to Zuko, who took it and immediately jumped onto his ostrich-horse.

"Thank you," said Zuko. He tucked the skin into the ostrich-horse's satchel. He held out his arms, and Iroh stood and handed Song Lee to him. Without her coat, she looked even skinnier than usual, and she was so light... 

Iroh grabbed her belt, sword, and coat, and he climbed onto Zhuque after placing her clothes in his supply bags. "Thank you for your help," he said to the man. "We will take care of her. If you are ever in Ba-Sing-Se..."

"Of course," he replied.

And then they were off. 

It was a little difficult to ride with Song Lee in his arms, but Zuko managed it well enough. As they went, he looked down at her again and wiped the sand from her cheeks.

"Please be okay," he whispered, pretending that his own tears weren't dripping down to add to those already present on Song Lee's face. 


	9. Me, I’ve Been Fine

_Tongyi was restless and seemed to be impatient for Zuko to hurry up and write his reply, so he made a point of feeding him before he started. It was a different kind of cake than what Zuko normally gave him, but Tongyi didn't seem to mind at all._

**Song Lee,**

**Thank you for your faith that I will capture the Avatar. Since I have written to you last, he has evaded me multiple times, sometimes with the help of two siblings from the Southern Water Tribe. It is beyond irritating, but I've got a lead that should eventually lead me directly to them. They won't avoid me for long.**

**Tongyi is impatient with me today. If I could speak Falcon, I would ask him why. I think that it's just that the long journey too me made him miss you, though, even though I usually feed him as much cake as he will eat.**

_Zuko considered writing about how Song Lee was unforgettable in all of the best ways, but in the end, he decided not to. He didn't know what to write, or how to put what he meant into words, or how to really lay himself vulnerable like that. Of course, all of the letters needed a sort of vulnerability to be written honestly, but that was different then directly telling her about his thoughts and feelings about her._

**I think writing a book about your theories would be a good idea. You've got a lot of ideas and theories and conclusions, and they could inspire other people to come up with the technology you need to test them. What kinds of technologies do you need? Better telescopes?**

_He felt completely out of his depth asking, since probably everything he knew about astronomy was from listening to Song Lee or reading her letters over and over again._

**What are the titles of some of the scrolls and books you mentioned? And I'm curious to know more about your theories. What are some of your favorites?**

_After that, he didn't know what else to say. The letter seemed far too short, especially compared to what she had sent him. For a moment, as he stared at Tongyi's scar, he considered writing about being unforgettable in all of the best ways, after all._

_In the end, though, he simply sighed and finished:_

**I eagerly await your reply,**

**Zuko**

* * *

It had taken two long, excruciating weeks to get to the refugee port from the desert village, and Song Lee had gotten steadily worse. It had been difficult to get her through the secret checkpoint and onto one of the ferries into Ba-Sing-Se; Iroh had needed to convince the passport woman that she wasn't contagious, even though it was obvious that she was on the verge of death. If it weren't for his charm, Zuko knew that they probably wouldn't be safe and on the ferry, that they would be forced to find another, much more difficult way into the city. If that had been the case, he didn't think that they would have been able to make it with the condition that they were in.

It took twenty-four hours to get to the city from the cave, they found out. Iroh and Zuko reserved a spot next to the hull. They took turns staying by Song Lee's side; Iroh got her tea and actual bandages, and he kept the wound as clean as he could. Zuko just held her and wiped her brow and face clear of drool and perspiration and the spray of ocean water, the latter of which had already dampened Zuko's hair and clothes. It was cold, actually—the mist seemed to get inside of him and chill his bones. It clung tightly to Song Lee’s lashes.

He didn't remember ever being so scared.

She hadn't woken up once she she'd collapsed in the desert. Every breath seemed weaker than the last, and every flicker of her eyelids sent a rush of agony through him when they never opened. It didn't help that the food aboard the ship that they were given was barely edible and heavily rationed. It was already hard enough to feed her, and the minutes seemed to stretch on and on without any signs of coming to a stop.

Iroh, who had gone off to relieve himself, returned to Zuko's side. He said, "Who would have thought, after all these years, I'd return to the scene of my greatest military disgrace... As a tourist!"

Zuko looked up. His uncle had a flowering straw hat on his head, and a wide grin despite his fatigued eyes.

How could he smile at a time like this?

"Look around," said Zuko, climbing to his feet. "We're not tourists, we're refugees. And she's worse than a refugee." He motioned to Song Lee. Her hair was slick with sweat, and the bruises under her eyes were darker than ever. "She's _dying."_

"There is nothing more we can do," said Iroh quietly. "We must wait for her body to reject the poison."

 _"If_ it rejects the poison," snapped Zuko. "That's a pretty heavy 'if.'" He took a sip from the wooden bowl, and then he cried out and spat it over the railing and into the water. "I'm sick of eating rotten food, sleeping in the dirt... I'm sick of waiting for my _friend_ to _die_ in front of me. You know as well as I do that this food is making her worse, not better. I'm tired of this."

"Aren't we all?" he heard from behind him.

Zuko turned around and stood from his place next to Song Lee. He was face-to-face with a boy, hair brown as a mud-clogged river and a strand of prairie grass sticking out of his mouth. He didn't like the smile on this boy's face.

"My name's Jet," said the boy, "and these are my freedom fighters." He motioned behind him at two other kids. "Smellerbee, and Longshot."

"Hey," said the smaller kid with a headband keeping his hair out of his eyes.

Longshot, a tall kid with dark hair obscured by a coolie hat, just nodded.

"Hello," replied Zuko simply, looking back at Song Lee. He didn't want to get in a fight just then.

"Here's the deal," said Jet, stepping closer. "I hear the Captain's eating like a king, while us refugees have to feed off his scraps." He looked down at Song Lee, too, taking in the sight of her ashen skin and labored breathing. "Doesn't seem fair, does it?"

"What sort of 'king' is he eating like?" asked Iroh before Zuko could say anything.

"The fat, happy kind."

Zuko knelt down again next to Song Lee and wiped the sweat from her brow, ignoring his uncle's wistful expression.

"You want to help us liberate some food?" Jet asked Zuko. "I can guarantee that it will help her more than whatever she's getting now."

Zuko considered his friend, and then his own bowl of spoiled food. Then, coming to a decision, he hurled the little wooden bowl over the side of the boat.

"I'm in," he said, standing and turning towards the other boys.

The moon was full that evening. It reminded Zuko of the last time he'd been sneaking around under the full moon, which had been when he and Song Lee had scoured that village they had begged in by rooftop and stolen the broadswords of the man who had tormented Iroh and Song Lee. He could still hear the man's condescending voice in his head. 

_I don't prefer them dark, anyway._

The thought made him tighten his hold on Song Lee's body involuntarily.

He was almost scared to leave her, though he knew that Iroh wouldn't leave her side until he came back. He wouldn't be gone for long, but if he got caught, he'd probably get arrested, and he couldn't do that to Iroh and Song Lee. He couldn't let himself get separated from them again.

The waiting was excruciating. He still had no idea whether she was going to live or not. It was beyond painful to come to understand that every breath could be her last, every night the shadows over her face got even darker, every hour her skin grew more and more gray. Zuko could barely handle it. Once—just once—he had wished that she would die already so that he wouldn't need to continue waiting in such hopeful agony.

After that, of course, the horror that he felt for thinking such a thing joined the feeling of agony that made him want to rip himself apart and throw himself overboard all at once.

He just... really missed her.

It didn't matter. When Jet appeared, Zuko hesitated before handing Song Lee back to his Uncle, and then he stood and followed the Freedom Fighters.

Even under the light of the moon, the shadows of the ferry were far more numerous than open decks. It was easy to slide in and out of them without being noticed. Jet, Smellerbee, and Zuko crept up stairs to the second-level deck, watching for particularly attentive guards. They passed a couple of guards who never saw them. The quiet of the night seemed to fill up every open space, every shadow, and Zuko allowed himself to be swept along by it. He became a part of it. He continued on.

When they finally made it to the kitchen, Jet had Smellerbee keep watch. As soon as Jet managed to force the lock, he and Zuko burst in, weapons at the ready. To Zuko's relief, no one was waiting for them. The room was theirs. 

The two boys got to work, using a couple of sacks that Jet had on hand to swipe as much food as they could. Jet went for a couple of cooked birds first, which unpleasantly reminded Zuko of Tongyi as he used his broadswords to stack eight bowls of food—good, fresh food—so that they'd be easier to carry. He tied each stack with a ribbon before placing them in sacks as well. 

Jet smiled at him, and he looked away.

"Guards coming!" they heard Smellerbee whisper-shout, so they made their way out of the kitchen and over the to the railing keeping them from falling over the side of the upper deck. Exhilaration was plain on Jet's face, but Zuko was panicking. He couldn't get caught. Where was—?

An arrow planted itself in the wood, making Zuko jump. He had no doubt in his mind where Longshot had gotten his name from. A rope was securely tied to the end of it, but the time to wonder if the rope was stable had passed. The guards were too close. They sent the sacks down first, and then the three boys followed. The rope held. 

As soon as he'd made sure that Smellerbee was secure, Longshot wrapped the end of the rope around his hand and tugged, pulling the arrow from the railing. Zuko took a fleeting moment to stare at the so-called Freedom Fighters, immensely impressed, before he grabbed a sack and followed Jet over the lower deck.

By the time the guards realized anything was wrong, Zuko and the other boys would be safe.

Jet passed out the food to everyone on the ferry, soaking in their praise like a sponge took in water. His smile seemed to have the same effect as Iroh's, but Zuko had grown somewhat comfortable around the other boy. He was thankful for the help, thankful for much better food. 

Zuko was eating with Iroh, Longshot, and Smellerbee under the stars. Song Lee was propped up beside Iroh against the ferry's side, still unconscious, still obviously not doing well. Iroh had set aside some food to give to her later, after everyone else had eaten.

"What happened to her?" asked Smellerbee, his eyes heavy on Song Lee's body. "She's not _diseased,_ is she?"

Zuko and Iroh exchanged a glance. "We had a... skirmish... with a Fire Nation soldier," said Iroh. "She was cut with a poisoned blade in the process."

"Oh," said Smellerbee. "What kind of poison?"

Iroh shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice suddenly heavy. _"We_ don't know. We're doing everything we can, but it's up to her to push through."

"And if you got the wrong poison, the cure could make it worse," said Smellerbee.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry there isn't more we can do," said the kid. 

Iroh waved him off. His face lightened. "So," he said. "Smellerbee—that's an unusual name for a young man."

Zuko sighed internally, knowing that this was exactly the wrong thing to say. Obviously, his line of thinking wasn't incorrect, because Smellerbee's expression turned from one of concern to one of irritation. "Maybe it's because I'm not a man," he snapped. "I'm a girl!"

Well, Zuko hadn't actually expected that part.

The girl shot Iroh a dark look before rising and storming off. "Oh, now I see!" called Iroh after her, probably just making the situation worse. "It's a beautiful name for a lovely girl!"

Longshot rose and followed her. Zuko watched as he followed Smellerbee, stopping her with a hand on her shoulder and a hard look. This whole time, he hadn't heard Longshot speak at all.

He shrugged and looked away. To each their own. His gaze fell, as it always did, to Song Lee. Because she always slept curled up with her back against a wall or else she just didn't sleep, it was strange seeing her in this poisoned coma, spread out or sat up or cradled in someone's arms.

Jet sat down across from them. "From what I heard, people eat like this every night in Ba-Sing-Se," he said. "I can't wait to set my eyes on that giant wall."

"It is a magnificent sight," said Iroh.

"So you've been there before?"

Iroh ignored the warning look Zuko sent him. "Once," Iroh admitted, looking away with regret plain on his face, "when I was a different man."

Zuko had a sudden, distant memory of his cousin. Of Iroh's son. He slouched slightly, wondering to himself how his uncle could act so cheerful and amicable all the time in the aftermath of such a tragedy.

"I've done some things in my past that I'm not proud of," said Jet, looking around at the people on the ferry. "But that's why I'm going to Ba-Sing-Se, for a new beginning. A second chance."

Zuko wondered what a second chance would look like within the walls of the Earth Kingdom's capital. He glanced back at Song Lee.

"That's very noble of you," he heard Iroh say to Jet. "I believe people can change their lives if they want to. I believe in second chances."

What would Song Lee do with a second chance?

When the dawn decided that it wanted to break through the bone-chilling mist, Zuko left Iroh and Song Lee to stand at the prow of the ship for just a moment, looking over the approaching shoreline, searching for the legendary walls of Ba-Sing-Se.

He wondered if Iroh thought about his son. About Lu Ten. That had been his name, hadn't it?

"You know," said Jet from behind him, causing Zuko to startle, "as soon as I saw your scar, I knew exactly who you were."

Oh, no.

Jet moved to stand next to him, and Zuko eyes him warily, his hand on the hilt of one of the broadswords. But then Jet said, "You're an outcast, like me."

Zuko relaxed. He returned his hands to the railing. 

"And us outcasts have to stick together," Jet continued. "We have to watch each other's backs, because no one else will."

Zuko thought about his uncle, thought about Song Lee, how lost he was without them. He thought about those days of separation, when Zuko had met little Lee and exposed himself as the prince of the Fire Nation. He thought about how terrified he had been when Azula had almost killed Iroh, when he and Song Lee had bonded on that flat mountain when he'd tried to get himself electrocuted.

"I've realized lately," said Zuko grimly with all of those thoughts on his mind, "that being on your own isn't always the best path."

The rocky cliffs of the shore came into view through the mist, and finally, Zuko took in the sight of the magnificent wall.

"She'll get better, you know," Jet told him.

"I really hope so," Zuko replied, so quietly that he could barely hear himself. He didn't know how much longer he could bear waiting.

The sun had dispelled the mist completely as the ferry made it to the shore, preparing to dock. Zuko was tired, but he was ready to get off of the boat. Everyone on the ferry was crowded on the deck, chattering among themselves, gawking at the outer wall of Ba-Sing-Se. It was hard to find his Uncle through the crowd, but he knew that Iroh probably hadn't moved from where they had previously been sitting. 

When Zuko finally made it to him, his was lightly surprised to see that Longshot and Smellerbee had returned to talk to his Uncle. He wasn't able to see Song Lee or Iroh through the crowd, though he expected to see her laying down next to their things.

He _definitely_ didn't expect to see her sitting up next to a squatting Iroh, trapped in his tight embrace, her eyes still tired and bruised but still totally, obviously open. Zuko froze, his brain slowing, not comprehending what it was processing. He watched as she opened her mouth and said something, and Iroh pulled away, and Song Lee spoke to Smellerbee and Longshot as Zuko struggled to understand what he was seeing.

Finally, though, he pushed through the rest of the crowd, ignoring the grumbles and shout he left in his wake, and he knelt down in front of Song Lee before she had even seen him, taking her face in his hands to scrutinize her every feature. Her eyes widened, and he exhaled.

She was okay.

"You're smiling," she said.

Her voice was hoarse and exhausted, but he had never been so ecstatic to hear it. He didn't even care that he was smiling. "Hey," he said, keeping his tone gentle. "Are you okay?"

"I guess so," she said.

"You missed a lot of night skies."

She smiled, then, and Zuko was almost blown away by the glory of it.

Then he remembered that she didn't like being touched against her will, so he quickly let go over her face. "Can I hug you?" he asked.

Instead of answering, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. He immediately leaned into her, burying his head in the space where her neck met her wiry shoulder and hugging her as tightly as he could. He felt her sigh, and he kept smiling, not even caring that everyone could see them in that moment of vulnerability. 

"I really missed you," he said.

"I can't hear you when you talk against my shirt," she replied, her tone so tired but still audible and flat and irrevocably _her's_ , so instead of pulling away to repeat himself he just tightened his hold on her, because she was _there_ and he didn't remember every being that happy.

After two weeks of worrying, of the intense fear that she wasn't going to make it, Zuko was sure that Song Lee was going to be okay. He never wanted to be so afraid ever again.


	10. I Work Most of the Time

**The Fifth Letter**

_"The Avatar!" said Zuko, pulling on the ostrich-horse's reins. He had seen the sky bison floating through the atmosphere nearby. He had almost mistaken it for a cloud again, but after months of tracking it, he felt like he could recognize it anywhere._

_Before he could move, though, he hesitated. His gaze wandered back to the path on which the earthbending soldiers had taken his Uncle._

_He felt like he was being pulled two different ways by two extremely powerful magnets. He had failed to capture the Avatar in the past, and he had no way of knowing if he could catch him now, especially without Iroh. With his Uncle, however, he had a much better chance of tracking the Avatar. And there was no way he was ever going to leave him to the mercy of a couple of earthbending thugs._

_With that thought on his mind, he turned his ostrich-horse back to the path it had been taking, deciding that rescuing his Uncle was the best possible option. From a strategic sense, of course._

_It was at that inopportune moment that Tongyi flew down and landed on his shoulder._

_Zuko sighed and turned to the members of the crew that were helping him track his Uncle. "Does anyone have writing supplies?" he asked._

_Funnily enough, they did. One man had both a stoppered inkwell and his 'lucky' brush, which Zuko promised to be careful with. A different man had a message from a relative he wasn't close to, which Zuko used the back of to quickly write:_

**Song Lee,**

**I can't write to you right now. My Uncle has been taken by earthbending soldiers. I have not read the fifth letter, but as soon as my Uncle is safe, I will. The next time you write, I'll reply to both letters.**

**Zuko**

_Barely caring whether the ink was dry or not, and unsure why he was even writing in the first place, he rolled the letter up, pressed it into Tongyi's carrier, and sent the falcon off again._

_"Let's move," Zuko told the crewmates after he had returned the inkwell and lucky brush to the man who had loaned them to him, and they were off. Zuko made sure that Song Lee's unread letter was tucked safely in his pocket._

* * *

Walking was difficult. The poison had taken a lot out of Song Lee, and it was extremely difficult for her to adjust to her new permanence of weakness. She had to let Zuko or General Iroh help her along. It was humiliating. From what Zuko told her (and he had told her a lot), she had been asleep for two weeks. Two weeks of him and his uncle dragging her around when she was there to be making their journey easier in the first place. 

How could she have let Princess Azula surprise her like that? Song Lee found it difficult to look Zuko or General Iroh in the eye. Her teacher would have been so disappointed. 

As the customs women looked over everyone's papers, Song Lee experimented with letting go of General Iroh's arm and grabbing on again. He didn't say anything about it, but it quickly became obvious by the way the world tilted around her that she had to stop. Instead, she listened to Zuko chatter about his sister in a tone that wasn’t loud enough for anyone around them to hear while she watched the customs woman, who didn't q _uite_ look like other Earth Kingdom women that Song Lee had seen. She was certainly a sight to behold.

Zuko stopped talking about Princess Azula and started talking about her two friends, Mai and Ty Lee. Song Lee listened in fascination.

Ever since she had woken up, Zuko had talked and talked with neither rest nor reprieve. Song Lee'd had no idea that he had so much to say. It was like they had switched positions—Song Lee listened, asking questions every so often, and Zuko talked about whatever popped into his head. She enjoyed it immensely, though it may have been because she was too exhausted to actually talk for extended periods of time. 

When she had first woken up, she'd also met Smellerbee and Longshot, who she thought were very nice individuals. Zuko told her that they were part of a small group of rogues calling themselves the Freedom Fighters, and that their leader was a boy named Jet. She was looking forward to meeting Jet; Zuko had a lot to say about him, too.

Zuko was cut off by the customs woman when she looked at Song Lee and asked, "What's wrong with her?"

"Oh, you know how it is," said General Iroh, and Song Lee readjusted her hold on his arm. "Seasick."

Song Lee and Zuko both looked at General Iroh but didn't say anything to the woman, who stared for a moment before she shook her head and looked away. "So, Ms. Song, Mr. Lee, and Mr... Mushy, is it?"

"It's pronounced 'Moo-she,'" said General Iroh.

The woman's expression morphed into something new. Song Lee attempted to guess what it meant. Was the woman hungry? Tired? "You telling me how to do my job?" Happy, then? Song Lee had no idea.

"Um, no, no, no," said General Iroh. He handed Song Lee over to Zuko, who let her wrap her arms around his elbow without complaint, and then he stepped closer to the woman. "But may I just say you're like a flower in bloom, your beauty intoxicating."

Song Lee frowned. She didn't think that the woman looked like a flower at all. Before she could say anything, though, the woman's expression changed again—how could one person feel so many emotions so quickly?—and she said, "You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself, handsome." She clawed at General Iroh, making Song Lee startle, before she made a funny noise in her throat and said, "Welcome to Ba Sing Se."

With that, the woman stamped their papers and waved them forward.

"I'm gonna forget I saw that," said Zuko to General Iroh over Song Lee's head. He held onto her, though, instead of giving her back to his uncle, and the three of them entered the crowded station while Zuko delved back into chattering for as long as his breath held out. They were officially in the city of Ba Sing Se.

If Song Lee was honest, from the station itself, it wasn't much to look at.

"What's a stone train?" Song Lee asked as Zuko helped her sit down at a waiting area.

"I don't know," he admitted. He looked at her for a moment, and then he glanced around. "I guess we'll find out soon."

Zuko and Iroh sat down on either side of Song Lee, staring out at the crowded station. Zuko looked at Song Lee for a moment; there were still frighteningly dark circles under her eyes, and her skin hadn't fully regained its bronze color, but it was really nice to see her awake and walking around again, even if she needed help doing the walking part. To be honest, though, Zuko truly didn't mind, and he knew Iroh didn't, either. They were just glad that she was okay. She was speaking and studying her surroundings again, and Zuko had yet to come down from the elated high he'd felt when he'd first seen her awake.

It was then that Jet appeared in front of the three of them, his eyes full of something that Zuko didn't like. Zuko schooled his expression into passivity and met Jet's gaze.

"Hey," he said, and then he looked at Song Lee. "I was really glad to hear you're doing okay."

"Oh," she said. "Yes. I'm... Who are you?"

Zuko glanced at Song Lee. She didn't look threatened or suspicious, but her head was leaning back against the stone, and her eyes were only half-open.

"I'm Jet," he said, and then Zuko stiffened as he picked up her limp hand and kissed the back of it. "Maybe Lee's told you about me."

Of course, Song Lee stiffened, too, but she didn't tear her hand away and flip him against the ground like she had when Zuko had grabbed her wrist in that desert village. "A little bit," she said, glancing at Zuko. He blushed; he had talked to her everything he could think of on their way to the customs desk, including all that he knew about Jet. "I'm Song..." She left the last part of her name hanging, as if she was still unused to only using the first part. Which he was sure she was.

"Well, Song," he said, "are you feeling better?"

Her expression brightened, making Zuko's mood plunge inexplicably, even though Jet let go of her hand. "Oh, yes," she said. "I mean, I'm not in risk of dying anymore, if that's what you mean. I feel terrible, though. I can barely walk as it is. I—" She frowned, then, and cut herself off. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but she didn't. And Zuko knew it had something to do with him, because she glanced at him, and then she looked away again.

Had he done something wrong?

"Get your hot tea here!" Zuko heard. He glanced up, and his eyes caught on a peddler. The merchant's voice was too loud for Zuko to focus on what Jet was currently saying to Song Lee. "Finest in Ba-Sing-Se!"

"Oh!" he heard his uncle say, and watched as he waved an arm frantically. "Two jasmines, please!"

Zuko returned his attention to Jet and Song Lee, and was astounded to see her _blushing._

Iroh handed a cup of jasmine tea to Song Lee, who accepted it with a nod. Zuko regarded Jet with narrow eyes, even when Jet backed away and sat down next to Zuko as Song Lee and Iroh both drank from their cups. His attention turned back to them, though, when he heard Iroh spit out his tea, and he looked just in time to see the funny expression on Song Lee's face and hear Iroh say, "Ugh. _Coldest_ tea in Ba-Sing-Se is more like it. What a disgrace!"

Song Lee took a second sip before making another face and just holding it in her lap. At least she wasn't blushing anymore.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" asked Jet.

Zuko glanced back at Song Lee, reluctant to leave her.

"Just for a second," said Jet, and Zuko sighed, dragged himself up, and followed him away from his Uncle and his friend.

"I'm sorry, Song. Here, give me your cup..." he heard his uncle say from behind him. 

"You and I have a much better chance of making it in the city of we stick together," Jet told him as soon as they were out of earshot of Iroh and Song Lee. "You want to join the freedom fighters?"

Zuko was taken aback by the invitation. He hadn't been expecting this at all. For a single moment, he seriously considered it. 

In the next, though he remembered the look on little Lee's face when he had discovered that Zuko was a firebender.

He never wanted to see that look again. 

"Thanks," said Zuko, glancing back at Song Lee, who was watching Iroh, "but I don't think you want me in your gang."

"Come on, we made a great team looting that Captain's food," Jet said. "Think of all the good we could do for these refugees. For _her."_ At that, Jet nodded back towards Song Lee. As if she could hear him, she looked towards the two of them, her eyes meeting Zuko's for a split second before he looked away.

Zuko bristled. Song Lee was certainly not a bargaining chip. "I said no," he replied curtly, and then he turned and walked back towards Song Lee and Iroh.

"Have it your way," he heard Jet say from behind him. He sounded surprised. Why? Jet didn't even know him. What did he expect?

When Zuko reached the waiting area, Song Lee asked, "What was that about?" Iroh handed her back her cup of tea. 

"Well..." Zuko started, glancing back towards Jet, but then he was caught off guard by the freedom fighter's expression. He had been _surprised,_ but as he stared at Iroh, his expression was inexplicably hostile.

Like little Lee's.

Zuko spun around, looking for the cause of the hostility as Jet walked away. And then he realized that Song Lee and Iroh were enjoying _hot_ cups of tea that had just been cold.

He dashed the cups of their hands with one movement.

"Hey!" snapped Iroh, but Song Lee didn't say anything. She just flinched away, and at once Zuko felt horrible, but he ignored the feeling.

"What are you doing firebending your tea?" Zuko whisper-shouted through gritted teeth, suddenly beyond angry. "For a wise old man, that was a pretty stupid move."

Of course, Iroh ignored him. "I know you're not supposed to cry over spilled tea, but..." said Iroh, sniveling pathetically as he looked at the puddle of tea on the floor, "That's so sad."

Zuko sat down next to Song Lee again, this time focusing on his rage again rather than his uncertainty or elation or relief. He knew exactly how to avoid being that scared. He could just stay angry, and maybe Song Lee would stay alive, and maybe he and Iroh wouldn't get caught, and maybe he would never feel anything else ever again.

He knew he was behaving like a child, but he didn't care.

"Lee," said Song Lee, leaning forward to catch his eyes. "Are you okay? What did Jet say?"

"You know," he said without looking at her, knowing as the words came out of his mouth that he wouldn't be able to take them back, "this might not have happened if you hadn't _lied_ for days about what was wrong."

"But I didn't know what was wrong," she said.

"Tough. You knew _something_ was wrong. You should have let Uncle help you. We wouldn't have had to drag you all this way if you'd just told us what happened."

From the corner of his eye, he watched as Song Lee froze, staring at him. Then she leaned back and didn't say anything else.

Zuko felt terrible, but he just focused on his anger. That was much easier to bear.

His words echoes around in her head for hours. Song Lee's feelings weren't hurt; far from it, actually. Zuko was _right_. He had merely confirmed what she had already known. She knew that if she had been more transparent about her health, she wouldn't have been such a burden. Her position as a protector of Zuko and General Iroh was compromised because of it. Zuko's anger, and it was definitely anger, was justified. 

She didn't deserve to travel with them anymore, she decided, but she couldn't leave them yet. She had sworn her loyalty to them, even though her loyalty was burdened by shame just like they were burdened by her. If she had to, she would spend the rest of her life trying to earn back their time and effort, which had been needlessly expended on her in her illness. It was a debt she would have to repay.

Zuko sat between her and General Iroh on the stone train. He was still angry. She was disappointed that she was part of the cause for it. He had seemed so happy when she'd woken up, though she was beginning to doubt that it was _because_ she had woken up. If that were the case, wouldn't he still be happy?

A thought formed in the back of her mind, a nagging sensation that she barely noticed or gave extended attention to. 

_Would it have been better for Zuko and General Iroh if I had simply died instead of waking up?_

She barely even noticed that it was there. The more time that passed, the deeper the thought grew into her mind, justified with more and more reasons why it would have been better, after all.

"What a handsome baby," she heard General Iroh say. She glanced past Zuko, who still didn't look at her, to where the general was speaking to the family sitting next to him. 

It was a small family, only three people in it. Just like hers. The husband had his arm around the woman, who was holding their child in their arms. The child looked barely days old, and its skin was as pale as the moon. It was the perfect family, Song Lee decided. She wondered how she would have turned out with a perfect family, rather than a hating mother and a larger-than-life father. Would she have been so terrible then?

"Thank you," said the woman, and Song Lee looked away.

She wondered if she would ever be a wife. Or a mother. Probably not, she decided. At the rate she kept getting into trouble, she would be long dead before she could even make it back to her aunt. Besides, she was pretty unlovable. Unless she decided to adopt, she doubted she would ever have that sort of family.

It was strange in the city of Ba Sing Se itself. Zuko, General Iroh, and Song Lee were provided with vouchers for food and an apartment on the written agreement that 'Lee' and 'Mushi,' at least, would try to find jobs to help support themselves. It was a good system for the refugees, Song Lee thought; there were a wide array of talents pouring into the city from all around the fringes of the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation colonies. Plus, it kept individuals and families alike from descending immediately into poverty. 

She wondered why the Fire Nation didn't also utilize a similar system to keep people out of poverty. Until she had started traveling with Zuko and General Iroh, Song Lee had never lived in poverty, as in her later childhood she had lived with her father on a ship, her aunt in on of her great houses, or her teacher in his school, but she wasn't completely ignorant to the problems that the lower-class Fire Nation citizens faced. Her mother had worked in national politics for a long time, and Song Lee had become used to understanding the problems that her aunt helped address and represent in council. 

The apartment wasn't large, especially not to the scale that the three of them had grown up in, but it was much better than having nowhere at all. Zuko and General Iroh got the two beds, and Song Lee found the darkest corner of the apartment and set up her nest of blankets. She was still far too weak and far too tired, but it was nice to have her own space, even if it was barely a meter in diameter.

As Song Lee curled up with her back securely set against the apartment wall, she thought about Tongyi. Would he attempt to make it into the Earth Kingdom to deliver a letter from her aunt or teacher? She hoped not. She didn't want him to get hurt. The thought of seeing him again made her homesick, though, in a way she'd never been before. Zuko and General Iroh were finally safe, at least to some degree, but she missed her aunt. She missed her teacher. She missed Tongyi, and Nanfang Zhuque, and her father, too. She even missed Song the nurse and Song's mother, who had been so kind to her. Would they have thought of her if she had died? She didn't think so.

"Hey," she heard, the voice hard, and she uncurled and sat up. She hadn't bothered changing, other than to take her boots and sword and coat off, so she didn't feel anymore exposed than usual as she sat up to face Zuko, who was hovering in the doorway.

She bowed her head in response, studying her blanket and reaching out to straighten a few.

"I was serious before," he said. "You should have told us. I asked, but you always told me that you were tired."

"Sit down, why don't you?" she said. It was a sad attempt at sarcasm, and she knew it didn't convey itself through her voice. She was surprised, though, when Zuko sat down anyway. She hadn't thought that he would listen to her, whether he knew she was being sarcastic or not.

Zuko was wearing neither a scowl nor a smile. His expression was composed and thus more or less unrecognizable, and his voice was heavy with something she didn't understand. "You can't just not tell us that Azula hurt you," he said. "She's diabolical. It's okay that she hurt you—she hurts everyone—but you can't..."

"Yeah."

"Yeah. And, Song Lee, she _always_ lies. Of course she surprised you."

"I don't care if she always lies. I didn't know the blade was poisoned. She was cheating in a battle that she didn’t have to fight in the first place. Am I so helpless that I have to tell you about every scrape or bruise I acquire as I follow you?"

Zuko blinked. "You're not helpless," he said. His voice had changed. "You're an even better swordsman than I am, and I'm the Blue Spirit. But Azula _never_ plays fair. Against her, you should always tell us everything that happens."

"It might not have mattered," said Song Lee. She looked up, studying the ceiling, avoiding his gaze. "I might still have gotten sick, even if you tried to help. I would have still been a monstrous burden on your way here, I would still be too weak to walk around on my own. I... I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm such a terrible help. I haven't assisted you in any way that matters, and I have forced you to drag me along on your journey."

"Wait—"

"For that, Prince Zuko, I think I agree with you—it would have been better if I had died instead of slept. Then I wouldn't be such a problem."

"What?" asked Zuko. His tone was suddenly loud, his eyes wide, his expression a weird mix between fear and anger. "No! Of course I don't think you should have—God, Song Lee, what on earth are you talking about?"

Song Lee frowned. Was she not agreeing with him? Why was he scared and angry? "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm confused."

"Song Lee, you're hardly monstrous in _any_ way, and you're less of a burden than even Uncle is. I—I _like_ spending time with you, and of course I don't mind helping you while you get stronger. Of course _you've_ helped. You've given up _everything_ to help. And if you had died—do you _know_ the effect that would have had on Uncle, or the—the effect it would have had on me?"

"Oh," she said. "Yes. If that happened, I wouldn't be a problem anymore."

"No," he said, and she was taken aback by the force behind his voice. She looked him in the eye when he reached forward and grabbed her hands in his. "No, you're not a problem. You've never been a problem. It would have _killed_ us. You mean everything. You are _unforgettable,_ and you're my friend. My only friend right now, my best friend, and I love you more than anything. How can you just... How can you think that dying would be anything more than a terrible, awful thing?"

To be honest, Song Lee didn't know how to respond to that. She didn't know how to respond to other people's feelings, didn't know how to work out her own. "So you don't wish me dead," she said, unused to the warmth of his hands.

"Of course not!" He yelled that part. 

Song Lee was quiet for a long time, studying the angles of Zuko's face, the way his nose turned from his face, the sharp expressionism of his eyebrows. He wasn't lying; he had no reason to lie. He had never been so vulnerable to her, or to anyone, as far as she knew.

She turned her hands over in his so that she was holding onto him, too. Finally, she rose to her knees and left her safety circle of blankets. Using his grip on her hands to pull him towards her, she the rest of her strength to crawl over to Zuko. She sat back down when she was right in front of him, continuing to stare him down, even as he looked more confused than anything else. Then, she released his hands, leaned forward, and hugged him.

He didn't hug back; he still confused, she thought. "Thank you," she said, her voice no quieter than it ever was. "You're my best and only friend, too."

He hugged back then. And it was just them in that moment, and even though Song Lee didn't usually like being touched, she found that she did enjoy these embraces, these happy and gentle moments that she had never shared with anyone else.

Maybe she wasn't such a monstrous burden, after all.


	11. Digging For Secrets Deep in the Ground

_It wasn't until the sun had dipped below the horizon and Iroh was safe and sound back on the ship that Zuko finally bothered to read Song Lee's letter._

**Prince Zuko,**

**I hope your lead ends up successful. Before long, you should be on your way home, assuming that all goes well.**

**I cannot imagine not being allowed home to my father or my aunt.**

**I don't believe that Tongyi ever misses anyone. I think it likely that he is simply irritable from a long journey. I tend to only give him a little rest before I send him with the next letter. I will stop hurrying him so much in the future. If I could speak Falcon, I would ask him what it is he wants, but as it is, more rest would probably be good for him.**

**If you think I should write a book, I most likely will eventually. I trust your judgement, perhaps more than I trust my own. It's possible that I will write many books. I have a lot of theories.**

**In terms of technology, better telescopes would do wonders to further my research. I also need different instruments, but because it is already difficult to understand what I need to measure, it is also difficult to know what I can use to measure it with. I could, for example, use a tool to help me measure sunlight, or to help me measure the angles of the stars more accurately. Other than that, however, I'm not sure what else I need.**

_Following that part of the letter, a list of about ten scrolls had been written down, as well as the men who wrote them. To be honest, Zuko very much doubted he would be able to find any of them. One of the books caught his eye, though—it was called_ The Effects of the Cosmos on Firebending _by Yan Han-Tzu—and he wondered what it contained. Maybe Song Lee could summarize it for him, or at least what was important to know. He made a mental note to ask her the next time Tongyi came._

**Some of my favorite theories include how further studies of the skies, both scientific and religious, could heavily benefit the Fire Nation, as well as the rest of the world. For example, the Fire Nation is in power because of the way a great comet boosted their ability to bend fire. Firebenders pull their power from the sun in the same way that waterbenders pull their power from the moon. Understanding exactly why that is the case may allow benders to harness their power much more efficiently, but very few people seem to care, which is often disheartening.**

_The letter continued from there as she briefly stated some of her favorite theories, including the sun in relation to the moon, other worlds that might exist, life that could exist on those worlds, and more. It was intriguing, if not far-fetched, and it was a nice list about what to ask her next._

**I eagerly await your reply.**

**Song Lee**

_Zuko couldn't help but remember the tiny letter he had sent her, and he sighed and let himself sag in place. Song Lee put so much effort into her letters. Was it really so much to ask that he kept Tongyi with him until he could reply?_

_It didn't matter. Zuko pushed away the feeling of shame and accepted the familiar weariness and anger that came with once again losing the Avatar. That knotting in his stomach was unpleasant, but at least he knew how to handle it. It was much better than trying to deal with guilt or shame._

_Song Lee's letter remained open on his desk._

* * *

Time passed, if rather slowly. The longer she was awake, the closer Song Lee came to making a full recovery. Angry as he was that she had gotten sick in the first place, and that Iroh had almost gotten caught, Zuko was more than relieved that she was okay. He was beginning to understand that he had to act relieved rather than angry at her, though. 

His thoughts kept drifting back to the night they had settled in.

Zuko hadn't been sure why he was going to reprimand her again. He had already pushed her away, already said what needed to be said. But that look in her eyes—she had _really believed_ that she would have been better off dead. She had really believed that _he_ thought that, too.

How in the world could she think that?

Well, because of him, of course. He shouldn't have tried to push her away; it had backfired tremendously. Anger wasn't a shield against Song Lee. Anger just hurt her even more than it hurt him, and she had already been hurt enough. Her parents were _dead,_ for goodness sake. He had dragged her along with him on his stars-forsaken journey, and she had come willingly, and then she had gotten hurt, because of his sister but also because he hadn't been there to help. 

And then he had blamed _her._ Because it made _him_ feel better.

So of course she had believed he wished her dead. He had been shocked, outraged—why? She'd had no reason to think otherwise.

He was the _worst._

Zuko had forced himself to be vulnerable, and she had calmed down. He doubted he'd gotten his own words out of her head, though. He wished that he could help her... but he could think of nothing that he could do.

That being said, Song Lee had to stay at home whenever Zuko and Iroh left to attempt to find some semblance of work, but she didn't seem to mind. She didn't want to leave, though Zuko suspected that she was anxious when she wasn't with them. He understood the feeling. He felt it, too, and he was always relieved when he came back to the apartment and she was still there, still awake, still okay.

It was Song Lee Zuko was thinking about as he walked down a crowded street in the Lower Ring, and that was when Iroh caught up with him. Zuko looked at him, eyes catching on the huge vase filled with orange flowers. Zuko looked from the flowers to his uncle and glared.

"I just want our new place to look nice in case someone brings home a lady friend," said Iroh, nudging Zuko with an elbow.

It was a laughable thought. What girl in the whole of the Earth Kingdom would want to be with him? Especially when Iroh charmed all of them himself. "This city is a prison," replied Zuko, glancing at the walls, his thoughts turning to the Fire Nation. "I don't want to make a life here."

"Life happens wherever you are, whether you make it or not," said Iroh. "And maybe Song will enjoy the flowers. Who knows? Maybe she just needs a little more life in the apartment. You know she doesn't get that from us."

"Maybe," said Zuko. His thoughts returned to Song Lee. Maybe he could tickle her nose with the flowers like he did back at that desert village flower shop—before she passed out—and she would feel better.

"Now come on, I found us some new jobs, and we start _this_ afternoon," said Iroh, picking up the pace.

What were they going to do with the flowers if they were interviewing for jobs? It didn't matter, Zuko decided. A job would be good. It would get his mind off of everything.

Song Lee didn't like it when Zuko and General Iroh left her all alone in their apartment, but she was glad she didn't have to leave. She was feeling a lot better, though she was still greatly weakened, and every moment of sleep seemed to bring her strength back, at least a little bit. 

Despite that, though, she was still very anxious. She knew Zuko didn't have his swords on him, so what if he got attacked? He couldn't reveal his firebending in Ba Sing Se, and if he couldn't hold attackers off on his own...

It was silly thinking, but that anxiety inspired her. Well, sort of. It inspired her to compulsively clean everything in the apartment once, twice, three times a day. Dust was a faraway concept against Song Lee. The dishes were always spotless. The clothes were always clean and folded and put away, the beds always made. Even her nest looked neat.

But you could only clean so many times a day. There were no books to read, no parchment to write on, nothing else to do. So, during the day while General Iroh and Zuko were gone, Song Lee tried to sleep when she wasn't cleaning in an attempt to get even more strength back.

It never went very well.

"Well, you certainly look like official tea servers," said the owner of the tea shop, a scrawny man with oily hair. His name, Zuko thought, might have been Pao, but he wasn't quite sure. "How do you feel?"

"Ridiculous," Zuko replied.

He and Iroh were wearing aprons. He shouldn't have been surprised that Iroh had chosen this job. It was pretty much his dream job, after all, but Zuko was very unhappy with it. He would much rather be back at the apartment, listening to Song Lee talk about black holes.

Then again, he had promised the city that he'd get a job.

"Uh, does this possibly come in a larger size?" asked Iroh. Zuko looked at him. He was having trouble tying the apron around himself. Zuko almost smiled, but of course he didn't. This was Iroh's own fault.

"I have extra string in the back," the owner replied. "Have some tea while you wait."

He poured some tea for Iroh and Zuko before disappearing through a door. Zuko didn't drink his, but as soon as Iroh took a sip he spat it out. 

_He must not enjoy any of the tea in this city,_ thought Zuko, thinking back to the incident in the stone train station.

"This tea is nothing more than hot leaf juice!" said Iroh, as if Zuko could care at all.

"Uncle, that's what _all_ tea is."

"How can a member of my own family say something so horrible?" asked Iroh, and Zuko rolled his eyes. _That_ was the problem he had with his family? "We'll have to make some major changes around here."

With that, he took the teapot and dumped the so-called hot leaf juice out the window, which Zuko thought was a little extreme, before he returned to Zuko's side and immediately started talking about different tea variations that he could try.

Zuko had never been so bored in his life.

The apartment was silent when Zuko and General Iroh were out, unless Song Lee was doing something to it. She'd gotten used to it, though she waited eagerly for the noise of her friend and his uncle. That's why Song Lee knew something was wrong when she was curled up in another futile attempt to sleep and heard the window slide open in the kitchen. 

She sat up immediately, listening with rapt ears and an active mind while she reached for her sword, which was on the ground next to her, and drew it. Someone was definitely there, and they were trying to be as silent as the apartment, but they weren't doing a very good job.

Where were Zuko and General Iroh?

It didn't matter. Even in her weakened state, Song Lee could handle an intruder. She considered her sword for a moment before sheathing it again, instead attaching it to her belt. Whoever the intruder was, especially it it was a man, would probably assume that she was a helpless, mad orphan girl. 

_Underestimate me,_ she thought to herself, willing the words onto whoever it was that was in the apartment. _I will use it to my advantage._

She knew the act would probably be better with her green dress on, but the time had passed to put it on.

"Hello?" she called out after she'd risen and approached the doorway, not going through quite yet. She forced her voice to rise in pitch and shake some. People shook when they were afraid, right? "Who's there? I'm all alone, and I'm unarmed, and I'm just a helpless, mad orphan girl. Please don't hurt me."

Maybe she shouldn't have laid it on so thick, but it was too late to do anything about it.

Song Lee moved around the door frame and came face-to-face with none other than Jet, the Freedom Fighter she had met at the train station before Zuko had gotten mad at her for not telling him things. 

"Jet," she said, letting her voice fall back to its normal pitch and flat rhythm. He'd surprised her. What was he doing in her apartment?

"Song," he replied. His eyes were wide. Had he been expecting her to be there?

"What do you want?" she asked, following his movement as he shoved something in his pocket. "Why didn't you knock?"

"I—I'm sorry," he said, and his expression changed. "I wanted... to see you. Um, I didn't think you would hear me knock."

"Oh." Song Lee frowned. "Well, Lee isn't here."

"That's _good,"_ he insisted, stepping closer to her. "I don't think he likes me. But I like _you."_

Song Lee stood her ground, even though she wanted to back away. She was a little taller than Jet, so she was unsure of what he was trying to do. "Oh," she said. "But what..."

She forgot what she was going to say. Jet was standing too close, and her mind spiraled out of comprehensibility as she actually did take a step back, and was startled by her back hitting the apartment wall. What was he trying to do? Whatever it was, she didn't like it.

Jet muttered something under his breath. Song Lee really only caught _'_ _...believe I'm about to...'_ before he reached up and held her face in one hand while he used his other hand to steady his weight on the wall next to her, so that she was more or less trapped. This was worse. What was he doing? He was so close that she could feel his breath against her cheeks. No one had ever been this close to her before.

"You know," he told her, baring his teeth in a poor imitation of a smile, "you're really beautiful." His words sent electricity up her spine, and she gritted her teeth together to find some semblance of control in her situation. 

"What are you—?" she started, but then he pressed his lips against hers.

Song Lee had not been expecting that _at all._ Instead of letting him continue to kiss her like that, she recoiled, hitting her head against the wall she'd somehow forgotten was there. Her vision went blurry, but she didn't care. Before he could really react, and before she could even register the pain of knocking her head so hard, she had dropped to the ground and swept her legs out. They connected with his, and he fell to the ground with a shout that made her flinch.

She tried to stand, but it was impossible to get around Jet's already-moving body. He grabbed her ankle, and she fell, too. Song Lee rolled as soon as he body hit the ground, minimizing the impact but still losing her breath, and she tried to get far enough away from Jet as she could so that she could draw her sword. 

She wasn't able to. Jet grabbed her wrists, and she fought to get him off of her while he fought to push her back. "Song!" he said as she tried to twist out of his grip. "Song, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have kissed you. I—"

"Get _off,"_ she snarled, and he finally complied. She rolled away again, this time grabbing her sword out of its sheath. Jet's eyes widened when he saw it. Had he not seen the sheath strapped to her hip? No one ever seemed to. She stood, her vision swaying, and he scrambled to his feet, only to freeze when she pointed her sword at him. She swung her other arm and used it to steady herself, but Jet didn't seem to notice that part.

"Song," he said.

"Get out." She swung the sword in his general direction, and he flinched back. "Go away."

"I'm sorry. I wanted to see you."

"Out!"

He went out through the window, which was the way he had come in. She slammed the window behind him, wishing that she could lock it. 

Song Lee retreated to her nest, mind reeling as she fought to steady herself. She checked her head, deciding that she didn't have a concussion despite of how hard she'd hit her head. What would she do against any other intruders? She could barely fight off Jet, and he hadn't even drawn his hook-swords. It was obvious that she needed a plan.

Where was Zuko? 

The sun had set when Zuko and Iroh returned to the apartment, though the colors of the sunset hadn't faded from the sky and the stars were not yet visible. Zuko was tired; he'd never had to work so hard, not like this. He was really glad that he got to see Song Lee again, though.

"This is getting out of hand," he heard Iroh sigh as they entered the apartment. Zuko looked around and immediately saw what Iroh was talking about. When they'd left this morning, the apartment had been clean, but now it looked like something out of a catalog scroll—everything was straightened, shining, perfectly symmetrical.

"Isn't it a good thing she's cleaning?" he asked, but he understood what Iroh meant. It was worrying how much time and effort Song Lee must have spent going over everything again and again. She needed more to do.

Where was she, anyway?

"Song Lee?" called Zuko as Iroh placed the vase of orange flowers down on a table near the door. "Song Lee, we're back, did you—"

His words died in his mouth when he saw Song Lee staring at him, sheltered behind a doorway. He couldn't see her very well, but she was staring, her eyes wide. Was something wrong?

"Hey," he said, his voice softer. He didn't approach her, didn't step any closer. Iroh looked at her, too, but didn’t say anything. "Are you okay?"

She took a step away from the doorway, out into the open. Zuko's eyes widened. Ever since she had found Zuko and Iroh at that other Song's house, she had worn the same form-fitting black clothes, but now she was wearing a dress—a _green_ dress. It was very strange to see, and he wasn't sure why he was so surprised, or why she had changed. He'd thought she didn't like change.

"I cut my hair," she said.

Zuko glanced at her hair; she had indeed cut it. It still curled over the top of her ears, but it was only slightly longer than his.

"Did something happen while we were gone?" he asked, staring.

She didn't reply. Zuko looked at her face, and then he frowned.

"Your eyes are green," he said.

And they were. For months and months, Zuko had thought her eyes were gray. But now, with the green dress she was wearing, her eyes were obviously _not_ gray, to the point that Zuko wondered why he had ever thought that in the first place. 

"Yes," she said. "You didn't know that?"

The jade-green color was even more significant against her bronze skin, Zuko thought. He was reminded all at once of that Water Tribe siblings traveling with the Avatar with their dark skin and blue eyes.

"Oh, Song!" said Iroh from behind him, and Zuko broke out of his stupor and moved away. "You look lovely."

Song Lee blinked. "That's not the point," she said. "I wanted to exercise advantage. Like you told me."

Zuko looked at his uncle, who frowned. "Like I told...?" he started, but then his eyes lit up. "Oh! From our conversation at your, ah, old friend's house. Before we..."

"Yes."

"Whoa, what?" asked Zuko. "What are you talking about?"

Iroh waved him off, much to Zuko's irritation. "Nothing," he said. "You wanted to trick people into underestimating you."

"Yes."

"Why would you need to do that?" he asked.

It was a valid question; Zuko wondered that, too. But Song Lee looked away and pretended like she hadn't heard him. She disappeared around the doorway again.

Zuko sighed and laid down on the sofa under the window.

"Would you like a pot of tea?" asked Iroh after a minute of quiet.

"We've been working in a tea shop all day," said Zuko. "I'm sick of tea!"

"Sick of tea?" said Iroh. Song Lee came into the room again, this time in her usual outfit. She sat down at next to Zuko’s feet as Iroh said, "That's like being sick of breathing!" He rummaged through some of the cupboards while Zuko studied the back of her head. Her hair looked nice when it was short like this, and even though it was practically the same length as his, it looked a lot different. 

"Have you seen our spark rocks to heat up the fire?" asked Iroh. 

"I tried to make a pot of tea earlier," said Song Lee. "They weren't there. So I borrowed some from our neighbors. I might have broken a teacup, though."

"Broken a teacup!" said Iroh, horrified.

"You left the apartment?" asked Zuko.

"I was in the dress by then," she told him. She glanced at him, and he noticed that her eyes looked gray again, even though he knew better. "I had my sword. I don't think they noticed it. And I didn't leave the building."

"Well, where are the rocks you borrowed?" asked Iroh.

"Oh," she said. "I don't know. They might be in that vase you brought back."

Iroh, dismayed, went to check the vase, and Zuko couldn't help but laugh when Iroh returned with the spark rocks. How had she gotten them there in the first place? He wondered if this was Song Lee's version of a joke. She was smiling, he realized, so it probably was.

"No tea for you, Song," said Iroh. "Breaking teacups and hiding spark rocks..."

"I'll give you mine," Zuko whispered, and when she looked at him, he winked.

She smiled again.

Zuko and General Iroh brought Song Lee with them when they went to work in the tea shop the next day. Song Lee didn't bother with the dress this time, and she kept her sword close. She kept expecting to see Jet, kept expecting him to appear and attack her again.

But he didn't, so slowly, she began to relax.

The owner of the tea shop, who Song Lee did not trust, let her stay at one of the back tables. Zuko disappeared once and came back with an actual book for her. It was fiction—not really her favorite—but it was something to do. Plus, General Iroh would sometimes give her jasmine tea. It was very good, so she was content, especially since she didn't have to stay separated from Zuko and General Iroh all day. 

Song Lee finished her book near the end of the day and stayed where she was, watching the other people in the tea shop. Zuko was clearing tables. As much as he seemed to hate this job, he was good at it. General Iroh was bent over an officer's teacup, pouring tea in.

"This is the best tea in the city!" she heard the officer tell him.

"The secret ingredient is love," replied General Iroh.

Song Lee smiled at Zuko, who rolled his eyes and moved towards her.

General Iroh walked back towards the kitchen, probably to make more tea. The owner appeared, and with a long look at the general, said, "I think you're due for a raise."

At that exact moment, the door burst open. Song Lee was on her feet in an instant, her hand on the hilt of her sword, and then her heart shuddered when the person who pushed through said, "I'm tired of waiting. These three are firebenders!"

It was Jet, and he was pointing at her and Zuko and General Iroh. With that, he unsheathed his hook-swords and got ready to fight. 

How did he know that Zuko and General Iroh were firebenders? Why did he think that _she_ was a firebender? Why was he there?

She made eye contact with Zuko, who was next to her. He drew close for just a moment, placed his hand on her arm, and said, "Wait."

So she did. She let her hand fall from her sword and waited, though she didn't sit.

He let go of her arm and turned to face Jet.

"I know they're firebenders!" said Jet when no one replied. "I saw the old man heating his tea!"

Zuko glanced at his uncle. So Jet _had_ noticed that. Of course he had. Then again, he thought that Song Lee was a firebender, too. What an idiot.

"He works in a tea shop," said an officer.

Song Lee was staring at Jet. She had listened to him; her hand wasn't gripping her sword's hilt anymore. But she was obviously _scared._ And Zuko, who was surprised to notice that immediately, had almost never seen her scared. As far as Zuko was aware, Song Lee hadn't seen Jet since the stone train station. So why was she scared?

"He's a firebender, I'm telling you!" said Jet.

Zuko wondered, then, how long Jet had been spying on them.

"Drop your swords, boy, nice and easy," said an officer, rising from his seat. He and another officer were converging on Jet, ready to take care of him. 

"You'll have to defend yourself," said Jet to Zuko, Iroh, and Song Lee, ignoring the officers. "Then everyone will know. Go ahead, show them what you can do."

As if Zuko was that stupid.

Zuko stepped forward as one of the officers prepared to draw his broadswords. Broadswords that Zuko was very good at using. "You want a show?" he asked Jet, exhilaration coursing through him at the thought of what came next. "I'll give you a show."

With that, the swords were in his hands, and he hooked his foot around a table, slid it in front of him, and kicked it at Jet.

Jet buried his hooks into the wood and vaulted over the table, and then he brought the hooks down, but Zuko deflected them and jumped onto another table. Jet actually sliced a table in half from there, and Zuko balanced on one foot on an almost-toppling half.

It was all great fun, he thought, as he transferred his weight to the other table to avoid Jet's hooks. He took the stance of a crane. His uncle would be proud.

Finally, as Jet tried to push the remaining half of the table to the ground, Zuko jumped, landed on the ground, and swung his swords at Jet's feet.

Jet somersaulted away, landing in a crouch, before charging at Zuko again. Zuko had to admire this kid's determination, though it was getting old pretty fast. Zuko swung both swords, Jet's hooks clashed against them, and Zuko knew that this was going to be a long, dramatic fight.

He hoped that Song Lee had enough sense to stay out of it, though.

In the next moment, Jet turned him around and shoved him out the door. Zuko was thankful that they weren't in the crowded tea shop anymore, but he barely had time to take in his new surroundings before Jet, the dramatic mango that he was, was spinning and attacking and Zuko was blocking and for a brief moment their weapons were locked.

"You must be getting tired of using those swords," said Jet. "Why don't you go ahead and firebend at me?"

Zuko pushed, the weapons clashed apart, and they continued fighting. 

"Please, son, you're confused," he heard Iroh say from the tea shop. "You don't know what you're doing!"

"Let it be," he heard Song Lee say. He felt her gaze on him, but she did not step forward to help.

Zuko swung at Jet, Jet used his hooks to spin and deflect, Zuko tried to spin and counterattack, but then Jet hooked the ends of the hooks together and swung them around. 

Zuko retreated to avoid getting hit by the hooks' hilts.

"Bet you wish they'd help you out with a little fire blast right now," said Jet.

Jet swung at Zuko's feet, but Zuko used one of the broadswords to pin the hilt to the ground. That got Jet's attention.

"You're the one who needs help," said Zuko.

Jet sneered. "I can't believe I _kissed_ one of you."

The world went red as understanding crashed down on Zuko.

Zuko and Jet were down to one weapon each. Zuko was angry, but he felt slightly unbalanced without two swords, and he needed to reevaluate his opponent. Jet retreated a step, but then he turned in a circle and tried to swipe at Zuko. In response, Zuko swung his own sword, and Jet barely had time to pull his attack and bend backwards to avoid Zuko's blade. 

He hadn't hurt Jet, but he'd cut that terrible pioneer grass sticking out of his mouth in half. He wondered what pride he'd hurt with that motion, and knew that it wasn't enough.

Jet regained his balance in the next moment and leapt back onto the edge of a well. "You see that?" he called out to the people who had gathered to watch the fight. "The Fire Nation is trying to silence me. It'll never happen."

And with that, he used his hook to maneuver around a wooden beam and send a flying kick at Zuko.

A growl escaped Zuko's mouth as he struck forward at Jet, who parried the attack and, in the same motion, ended up back-to-back behind him. It reminded him of a technique that the Avatar had used on him once, and the comparison made him angrier still. Both he and Jet tried to strike the other from behind, but neither could breach the other's defense.

This was getting out of hand, and Zuko knew that the moment he was caught off guard, Song Lee would put herself in danger to attempt to help him.

Song Lee, whom Jet must have _kissed._

All at once, Zuko heard an authoritative voice yell, "Drop your weapons!"

The voice cut through Zuko's focus, diminishing his rage, and he stepped away from Jet. He lowered his sword—the fight was over.

Right in time, too. Zuko met Song Lee's eyes. She was sheathing her sword, and then she stepped closer to Iroh, shying away from the rest of the crowd.

He almost smiled. Almost. But of course he didn't.

"Arrest them," he heard Jet say. Jet hadn't lowered his hook; he was instead pointing at Zuko, Iroh, and Song Lee. "They're firebenders."

"This poor boy is confused," said Iroh. "We're just simple refugees." He was speaking to two men dressed in the uniform of Ba-Sing-Se's secret police—the Dai Li. Zuko assumed that one of them had been the one who had stopped the fight.

"Yes," added Song Lee. "From the eastern outskirts of the Earth Kingdom. I've never even seen a firebender. I'm just a poor, mad orphan girl."

Zuko winced at that, remembering what she had said earlier.

The owner of the tea shop pointed at Jet. "This young man wrecked my tea shop and attacked my employees."

"It's true, sir," said the officer who had tried to deescalate the situation before Zuko had stolen his swords. "We saw the whole thing. This crazy kid attacked the finest tea maker in the city."

Zuko rolled his eyes as Iroh blushed, chuckled, and said, "That's very sweet."

"Come with us, son," said one of the Dai Lee guards to Jet. 

Everything that happened next was almost too quick to keep track of. 

Jet swung his remaining hook at the officer, but the officer grabbed the sword with a hand made of stone. Jet was disarmed and his hands were bound behind his back with the same kind of stone, and then he was being dragged away—all before Zuko could blink.

"You don't understand!" howled Jet as he thrashed about. His eyes were wild. "They're Fire Nation! You have to believe me!"

Zuko watched as Jet was forced into a prison wagon. The crowd began to disperse. 

Song Lee was by his side in an instant. 

He turned, gently grabbed her arm, and ducked his head to look her in the eye. "When did he kiss you?" he asked quietly before she could say anything.

"He didn't."

"Please don't lie to me again."

Her mouth thinned. "Yesterday," she said. "Before you came home."

"Why?"

"He broke into the apartment. I didn't draw my sword, and then he saw me, and I told him that you weren't there because I thought he was looking for you. He said that he wasn't, that he liked me and that I was beautiful, and then he kissed me. It was confusing. I—I don't really remember much after that, but I know I was aggressive, and I scared him back out the window."

Zuko was still angry about it, so he just kept asking questions. "He came in through the window?"

"Yes."

"But the door was unlocked."

"Yes."

"Did you lock it after he left?"

"No. I wanted you to get back in."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"I was scared. And I can handle myself."

Zuko paused. It wasn't like her to be scared. He asked another question: "Is that why you put on the dress and cut your hair again?"

She nodded. "Yes. To exercise my advantage in case he came back."

"To exercise your advantage. _Did_ he come back?"

"No."

"Good."

"Why wouldn't you let me help with the fight?" she asked.

At that, he smiled. "I was able to fight him off," he told her.

"Almost. The guards had to help."

"We might need you to exercise your advantage now, and then later..."

"You might need my help later," she said.

"Exactly."

She smiled back. A beautiful sight.

"Come on, you two," said Iroh, appearing next to them suddenly, his voice heavy. "We need to help clean up the tea shop."

"Yes, Uncle," they replied in unison, and Zuko let go of Song Lee's arm, which he hadn't realized he had still been holding onto until she pulled away.


	12. A Few Days Ago

**The Sixth Letter**

_The wind tugged at Zuko's scalp as the cutter-craft made its way through the water alongside the pirate ship. The day faded as he waited for some sign of the Avatar. He wondered why the Water Tribe girl had bothered taking a rare waterbending scroll. He had known she was stupid, considering that she was traveling with the Avatar, but he hadn't thought she was_ that _stupid._

 _Of course, Zuko knew that the pirates he had formed a loose alliance with were probably going to double-cross him. Unlike the Water Tribe girl, he_ wasn't _stupid. He intended to be prepared, so he kept a close watch on the captain of the pirate ship._

_It was then, as the sun slid completely from view, that Tongyi landed on Zuko's shoulder._

_Zuko didn't smile, didn't react, though he did flinch when the falcon first touched him. He didn't think the pirates noticed. He couldn't show weakness around them. So he brought Tongyi inside the cabin of the cutter-craft. He didn't intend to reply right away, but he couldn't keep himself from quickly pulling the letter out of the carrier and reading over it, itching to know how she had reacted to bare-boned letter he had sent her last._

**Prince Zuko,**

**I hope that you are all right. I also hope that your uncle is all right. I hope you can reply soon; I am excited to hear about what has happened. Are you okay? What happened to the earthbenders? Where were you when they captured your uncle? Was the Avatar involved in any way?**

**I am very eagerly awaiting your reply.**

**Song Lee**

_"Stay here," Zuko told Tongyi, pretending that his shoulders had relaxed for some other reason than relief. Tongyi stood motionless on the chair Zuko was no longer sitting in. He wasn't sure whether the falcon could actually understand him or he simply wouldn't leave without a reply, but it didn't matter at that moment._

_"What was that about?" Iroh asked Zuko after he left the cabin._

_"Song Lee," he said, careful to keep his tone neutral, even though that knotting in his stomach returned at the sight of Iroh's smile. "The Avatar is close. Come on."_

* * *

Zuko placed down the tray of cups and made his way towards the back table, where Iroh was pouring tea for Song Lee. He was very careful not to look behind him—he didn't want to raise the girl's suspicions even further.

"Uncle, we have a problem," Zuko said to Iroh. Song Lee looked up from her book—he'd noticed that this was her third time reading it that week, but it was hard to afford new books—as Zuko continued: "One of the customers is on to us. Don't look now, but there is a girl over there at the corner table. She knows we're Fire Nation."

Of course, Iroh and Song Lee ignored him and glanced around him, towards the corner table. Zuko hastily turned them both back around, yanking Song Lee to her feet as he did so. "Didn't I say don't look?"

"You're right, Zuko," said Iroh. "I've seen that girl in here quite a lot. Seems to me she has quite a little crush on you."

"What?" asked Zuko and Song Lee in unison, though while Zuko reeled back in horror, and Song Lee said it in her usual toneless way.

"Thank you for the tea," Zuko heard from behind him, and he spun around to face the very girl they were talking about. Everything was happening too fast, and Zuko found it hard to focus around the pounding of his heart in his ears. As far as he could remember, he had never been so stressed.

She handed him the coins for the tea, and he took them and hastily turned away. What was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to act? He looked to Song Lee for any possible help, but she was muttering something to Iroh.

"What's your name?" she asked him. 

Zuko hesitantly turned back to her. "My name's Lee. My Uncle and cousin and I just moved here."

"Hi Lee. My name is Jin. Thank you, and, well, I was wondering if you would like to go out sometime?"

Zuko froze. He was more confused than ever.

"He would love to!" said Iroh before Zuko could respond, the traitor.

"Great!" said Jin. "I will meet you in front of the shop at sundown."

And then she was gone.

Iroh threw an arm over Zuko's shoulders with a giant grin on his face. He didn't need to say anything. Surprisingly, though, Zuko wasn't angry at him. If anything, he was still confused. His brain seemed to be lagging behind.

Suddenly, it occurred to him that he should see what Song Lee thought about this, but when he turned to face her, she was gone, too. "Where did Song go?" he asked his uncle.

Iroh looked around. "Good question," he said, his expression suddenly troubled. "I'll go find her. Tell Pao I will return soon."

Zuko sighed and nodded as his uncle disappeared out the front door, and then he returned to waiting tables alone, his head a confusing mix of emotions.

"Stop," said Zuko irritably, trying to dodge his uncle's hands. The three of them were in the kitchen, where Iroh was making tea and trying to torture his nephew simultaneously. "Don't touch me."

Iroh had convinced Zuko to put on an ornate green set of robes rather than his usual dark green rough spin, but now his Uncle was trying to style his hair, which was the last thing he wanted. "It's your date, Nephew," said Iroh, who was frighteningly determined. "You have to look _presentable."_

"The date that you set up against my will," grumbled Zuko. "Song—"

"It doesn't really matter what you want," she said from where she was sitting on his cot. Her tone seemed about the same, but it almost sounded a lot more forceful than usual. "What Uncle Mushi says, goes, after all." Her legs were tangled up in his blankets, and her own hair was a mess.

"What's _your_ problem?" asked Zuko, barely keeping his sleeve out of Iroh's grip.

"Nothing's my problem," she replied. "But you should probably solve your problems before bothering yourself with mine."

Zuko paused and looked at her, and then Iroh grabbed Zuko's shoulder and forced him down onto a stool. "Uncle," said Zuko, but his eyes followed Song Lee as she stood, stole all of the blankets, and left the room—probably to add them to her corner-nest again. Zuko would have to steal them back later, but at that moment, he was more worried about how she was acting. 

"What do you think is wrong?" he asked Iroh as he started messing with Zuko's hair. "She's really irritable."

"Mm, good question," said Iroh. "She can probably hear us discussing her—I'm sure that doesn't help. These walls aren't exactly the thickest in the world."

"Ow," said Zuko, cringing away from his uncle's hands, but Iroh just steadied his shoulder. 

"What do _you_ think is wrong?"

Zuko dropped his voice. "I think it might be the last effects of the poison," he muttered. "That's good, right? She's almost completely better."

"You don't think she's completely better now?" asked Iroh, lowering his voice to match Zuko's. "She can walk long distances all on her own. She almost helped you fight that boy the other day. She doesn't do much to prove otherwise, but she seems fine to me."

"Maybe," said Zuko. "But I don't know what else it could be. She's mad at me. Right?"

"Personally," said Iroh, tugging a brush through Zuko's hair despite his protests, "I think she might be jealous."

"Jealous?" said Zuko, accidentally raising his voice. Then— _"Ow!"_

Song Lee was in the room in the span of a moment. "What's wrong?" she asked. Her sword was drawn.

"My nephew here is a big baby," Iroh told her. "He doesn't like me doing his hair."

"Because it hurts!" said Zuko. "Maybe that's why she cut hers!"

Song Lee didn't smile, but she relaxed and sheathed her sword. "No," she said. "I cut mine because it kept getting in my way when I was fighting. I can't braid it all on my own."

"Oh," said Zuko. "Right."

She turned and walked away again. 

"What do you mean jealous?" asked Zuko as soon as she was gone. "That's ridiculous. Ow—stop!"

"No, it isn't," said Iroh. "Song Lee is protective. Except for with us, because I was close with her father and you had real conversations with her, she is not quick to trust. Her parents are dead—one was, I suspect, abusive, and the other was traveling more often than not—and she doesn't want to return to her aunt until she's sure that you and I are safe. Beyond that, she only seems to trust Master Piandao."

"Who?"

"Her teacher. And remember Nurse Song and her mother? Song Lee was staying with them, but she didn't seem very close to either of them, did she?"

"I—I guess not. So she's not jealous because..."

Zuko trailed off. He didn't know how to phrase what he wanted to say next. When Iroh had mentioned jealousy, Zuko had immediately thought that maybe Iroh thought that Song Lee liked him. That Song Lee liked him _romantically._ And that thought, that concept, seemed absolutely preposterous. For one thing, he didn't think it would be possible for _anyone_ to like him romantically. And Song Lee was his friend. They had worked together and traveled together and been vulnerable in moments that defined those parts of them that they didn't want to show anyone else. How could she think of him in a romantic way?

He had a feeling that he would continue expanding upon that thought, but until then, he banished it to the back of his mind. He didn't want to screw up his relationship with Song Lee by acting weird.

"What?" asked Iroh.

"Never mind." Then—"Stop brushing my hair!"

Zuko had left a while ago. He was going to meet that Earth Kingdom girl—Jin—in front of Pao's tea shop, where he worked.

The very thought sent another wave of irritability through Song Lee.

To be honest, she wasn't entirely sure why she was feeling such strong animosity towards the circumstances that Zuko had found himself in. She didn't entirely care, of course, but after he left, she became restless. She cleaned and re-cleaned the apartment. She tried to make General Iroh tea—that part didn't go very well, but how was that her fault? She tried reading that same book again and gave up after a a single sentence. She tried rearranging her corner space to accommodate the blankets she'd stolen from Zuko's cot. She cleaned the apartment again.

"Song Lee," said General Iroh as she did that.

She didn't stop dusting an already spotless table. "What?"

"I think maybe you should go out."

"And do what? Spy on your nephew? I'm not going to do that—my teacher told me that spying is wrong. Don't be silly."

"No, of course not," said the general, shaking his head. Song stopped and looked at him as a sigh made his body deflate. "Just... go for a walk. Relax. Explore the city. You've been cooped up for a very long time, but... you are feeling better, aren't you?"

"Of course," she said. "I can walk on my own. But that doesn't mean I should. What if you get attacked? What if there's an emergency and you need to run and I can't find you? What—"

"Those things won't happen."

"That's what you said about Mio recognizing you."

General Iroh sighed again, but he rearranged his expression so that he was smiling at her. "I can take care of myself," he said. "You know that. Now, go on. I trust you."

Song Lee hesitated, but in the next moment she was grabbing her sword, attatching it to her belt, and closing the door behind her.

In the moment after that, she was outside the building, on the dark streets of Ba Sing Se. The sudden brush of cool, middle-of-the-spring air made her pause and inhale. She could smell the cloying scents of smoke and wet stone, which were very contradicting but not unpleasant. The Lower Ring always smelled like that, unless you found yourself in the slums, and then it smelled like ostrich-horse feces, too. The air made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, and the feeling of her sword hilt in her hand was comforting, even as she considered her position.

What was she supposed to do next?

Zuko _hated_ the way Iroh had styled his hair, both because it looked stupid and it was extremely uncomfortable, but he couldn't do much about it at that point. For a moment, as he waited for Jin, he considered messing it up. But what if Uncle was right? What if girls liked his hair like that? Song Lee hadn't seemed to, but then again, she'd been acting weird anyway.

What was he supposed to do next?

He didn't have long to worry about it, though, because then he saw Jin walking towards him. She had a nice smile, he thought. 

"Hey," she said. She looked at his hair, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Well, look at you."

She reached up and messed up his hair. It was easy to hide his relief, even as he recoiled and made sure it wasn't completely messy. "You look so cute!" she said.

It was easy to hide his embarrassment, too.

"It took my Uncle ten minutes to do my hair," he told her.

Jin just kept on smiling. She grabbed his arm, and then they were off. 

_Exploring,_ thought Song Lee, _is very fun._

As she wound through the streets of the Lower Ring, Song Lee attracted some stares—her dark skin among such a pale-faced city tended to do that, and her black clothes made to be worn by boys probably didn't help—but it was like observing a new place in a new time. Besides, it was dark. If she needed to, she could just blend in to the shadows.

The streets of the city were emptier than they were during the day, but they were still busy. In such a large city, this didn't seem abnormal. It was perfect to Song Lee. There weren't enough crowds to stress her out, but enough going on that Song Lee was able to see something new happening wherever she looked. At night, the Lower Ring was a place of darkness and light and shadows and life and joy. A grand contradiction, according to Song Lee, or a bizarre experiment. So many different people existing together! Though Song Lee still felt separated from the rest of it, a foreigner in this place of distinct, smashed-together cultures, she was delighted to observe it.

She took General Iroh's advice. Always moving away from the tea shop so that she wouldn't be tempted to spy on Zuko (though after a while spent wandering through the wonderful city she was no longer interested in such a thing, anyway), she kept going. 

Kept _exploring._

She wondered what it would look like from the rooftops, but decided that would probably attract too much attention to attempt that evening. The sun had set barely an hour before. Maybe she could try it with Zuko. Would it look much different? Would it still be a grand contradiction, or would if be something else?

For a couple of blocks, Song Lee followed a small group of people dressed in silks and masks who were chattering and laughing with such quick gusto that she couldn't keep up with them, and then she got distracted by a man firebending. No, not firebending—he was drinking oil and lighting matches and blowing fire over the heads of a devoted crowd. It was a very strange sight. Song Lee watched from across the street as the man took out a sword. It was a single broadsword, like the kind Zuko used without its pair, not the longsword she was used to using. 

Her eyes widened when he leaned his head back and _swallowed_ it.

Song Lee watched as the man waved at the crowd and smiled, accepting coins and praise. No blood leaked from his mouth, no signs of pain showed on his unfamiliar face. What had he done to make this possible? Could she do the same with her sword?

She watched some more, and then after the crowd had gone, the man left the square and walked aside, blending in with the shadows himself, before regurgitating the sword out on the sidewalk.

She was gone before he looked up and saw her watching.

It would probably be wise not to try the same trick. And it had to be a trick. Song Lee was tempted to back and demand he show her again and again until she figured out the trick, figured out how he had done that, how her eyes might have deceived her.

But she didn't, because it was at that moment that she realized she was lost.

"So, how do you like the city so far?" asked Jin.

Zuko was way out of his depth in the situation he was in. Jin had brought him to a patio restaurant, but Zuko had zero ideas on how one should act on dates, how he should eat, how he should talk. Did Jin have some ulterior motive? Was she an enemy after all? He didn't understand anything. "It's okay," he said simply, wondering what she wanted, why he had even come to the restaurant in the first place.

"What do you like to do for fun?"

What was he supposed to say to that? He didn't make 'fun' a common activity. He knew Song Lee liked stargazing for fun and Iroh liked playing pai sho for fun, but in that moment Zuko didn't even remember the last time he'd _had_ fun. "Nothing," he said instead of making something up.

He decided he was probably not talking enough, but he didn't really like talking in the first place. What did she want from him?

A waiter appeared next to him. "Excuse me, sir," he said. "Would you and your girlfriend care for desert?"

Later, when Zuko went back and analyzed everything that had happened, he had no idea why he had reacted the way he did. He suspected it was his nerves snapping. It didn't really matter, though, because what mattered was that he slammed his fists against the table and shouted, "She's not my girlfriend!" which was _definitely_ not the right thing to do.

The rest of the people in the restaurant seemed to agree, because after his outburst it took a long while for everyone to stop staring at him.

He needed to calm down.

Zuko laced his fingers together and looked at Jin, worried what she would think. But... she was just slurping up her noodles from her bowl. She didn't seem offended or shocked in the slightest. 

It was a relief. Zuko blinked, deliberated on what to say next, and told her, "You have... quite an appetite for a girl."

As soon as it left his mouth, he knew it was a stupid thing to say, even if it was true as far as he was aware. Azula had eaten moderately, usually copying their father's plate. Song Lee rarely ate at all in front of Zuko and Iroh, and when she did, she never had much at all. He didn't remember how much his mother or Mai or Ty Lee had ever eaten, but he didn't think it had been a lot. Because of that, of course, seeing Jin eat so much was abnormal. But he still shouldn't have said it.

"Um, thanks," she said.

 _Stupid,_ Zuko told himself.

"So, Lee," said Jin, setting her empty bowl aside, "where were you and your family living before you came here?"

Crap. What was he supposed to say to that? "Um," he said, "well, we've been traveling around for a long time." That wasn't a lie. The only thing remotely untrue was the whole Song Lee being his family thing, but that part was a necessary lie.

"Oh!" she said. "Why were you traveling so much?"

Crap-crap-crap. He couldn't very well tell her he was hiding from his psychopathic sister and the Earth Kingdom government while hunting down the Avatar. Wasn't the Avatar supposed to be a symbol of hope or something for people like her? "We were, uh," said Zuko, trying to come up with something, "a part of this traveling circus."

 _Stupid,_ Zuko told himself again. 

"Really?" asked Jin. "What did you do?" Then, before Zuko could come up with some other stupid answer, she said, "Wait, lemme guess. You juggled!"

Zuko hesitated, mind racing, before he just looked at her. Jin looked so excited, and he suddenly found that he didn't want to disappoint this girl. 

He folded his arms, and then he said, "Yes. I juggled." What was he supposed to say? That he walked tightropes? Tamed eagle-tigers?

_Stupid._

But Jin looked delighted. "I've always wanted to learn how to juggle," she told him. "Can you show me something?"

Oh, crap. 

Jin gave Zuko several items from the table, and then he panicked before calming down and thinking, _how hard can it be?_ Of course, it ended up being very hard, because then he threw everything up into the air, prepared to catch them, and caught none of them. In face, one of the objects—a piece of pottery—broke on his head and shattered to the floor, which hurt, actually. How in the world had he thought he'd be able to do that? 

His scalp stung, but he was really just glad that Jin didn't laugh at him. Her smile was nothing more than gentle.

She was really pretty.

"Woah," said Zuko flatly, humiliated or embarrassed, or both. What did it matter? "I haven't practiced for awhile."

 _Yeah, like she'll believe that,_ he thought to himself as he wiped the broken pottery from his hair and hoped that he hadn't cut himself.

"It's all right," said Jin. She grinned, and then she said, "Hey, I want to show you one of my favorite places in the city."

It had been a long time since Song Lee'd had a meltdown.

A meltdown was what she called the massive, involuntary freak-out session that occurred when factors out of her control caused her perception of the world and herself to spiral out of control, such as when she was extremely scared, angry, or overwhelmed. Her aunt had been the first one to call it that, and her father and teacher had also taken up the term.

With the exception of her last visit to her mother's house, the last meltdown Song Lee had dealt with had been when she’d first entered her teacher's instruction. Actually, she'd had many. She had never liked it when people told her what to do, and she definitely didn't like the structured teaching patterns of Master Piandao. Of course, his stubbornness, when it met her own, had developed into an almost cruel training regiment that had led to even more meltdowns—up until she got used to them. Then the regiments helped her figure out how to control herself in most given situations, and how to channel that control into descending out of a meltdown and into a cool, calculating level of focus that was vital to sword fighting. She had been fifteen at the time.

Honestly, under Master Piandao's care she'd thought she had grown out of meltdowns altogether (once again with the exception of her last visit to her mother's house, which had been provoked, anyway), but as she looked at her vastly unfamiliar surroundings, she became aware of her breaths shortening, her eyes filling, her nose running. If she didn't calm down or figure something out, she would start screaming or crying or both at once, and that would draw far too much attention, and the more Song Lee thought it about it the worse it got, and—

An arm wrapped around Song Lee's shoulders. She tensed, but she couldn't think straight, so she didn't react otherwise. "Calm down, dear," she heard someone say as the arm pulled her somewhere. She tried breathing, tried calming down, and the person kept talking, their voice low but clear. "You're in Ba Sing Se. You're safe. The war doesn't exist here. You have people who love you, and people you love. Come on, smile for me."

Song Lee didn't actually pay attention to what the person was saying, nor did she care that they were probably dangerous, because at least the voice was grounding. Song Lee was able to finally take back control of her emotions, and her breathing finally evened out.

When she cleared her eyes, she noticed that she was in a new place, this one inside and much brighter than the outside streets had been. She was sitting on a chair across from a sofa, which was occupied by a woman with bark-colored hair that was streaked through with gray. Her nose had freckles scattered across it like stars, and she looked like she was about a head shorter than Song Lee. "Hello," she said as she pressed a cup of tea into Song Lee's hand.

It wasn't jasmine—Song Lee could tell by the smell, which was sweet and made her feel a little woozy when she inhaled some of the steam—but for once, Song Lee didn't really care.

"My name is Ying," said the woman when Song Lee didn't respond to her greeting. "You were having a panic attack outside my apartment, so I brought you inside and helped you calm down. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh," said Song Lee. She took a sip of the tea and immediately burned her tongue. "It wasn't a panic attack. It was a meltdown." She noticed, then, a particular lack of weight at her side. "Where's my sword?"

Ying picked it up from where it was sitting next to her, on the couch, before handing it to her. Song Lee wasn't sure why she hadn't seen it. Its weight in her hand allowed her to relax slightly, though she didn't draw it out of its sheath. 

The apartment that Ying had brought Song Lee into seemed identical to hers in terms of the layout of the rooms, but the interior design was completely different. The walls were a pale green, like flower stems, and her chairs and sofa and tables were all a darker shade of jade or emerald. A wide variety of plants sprouted up from orange, white, and pink painted flowerpots scattered around the entire apartment, and it felt like Song Lee was inside of a garden or forest rather than a building. Why didn't their apartment look this this? The vase of orange flowers didn't count.

"How is a meltdown different from a panic attack, if I may ask?" said Ying.

"I'm unsure," said Song Lee. "It's entirely circumstantial, though my aunt never bothered to explain the finer differences. I just have a mental disability, which makes it easier for me to spiral out of control. This one didn't count. It wasn't a full meltdown since you calmed me down. My name's Song..." She trailed off again, reminding herself that she needed to stop doing that. "I recently moved to Ba Sing Se with my uncle and cousin. They work at Pao's Tea Shop."

Ying smiled. "Oh, I've heard of them. Aren’t they the miracle workers that made the tea there edible?"

"Yeah."

Song Lee relaxed fully and smiled back. She decided that she liked this woman.

"I'm so excited for you to see the firelight fountain," said Jin. She had a hold on Zuko's hand, and she was dragging him through the Lower Ring. They were running—Jin seemed breathless as she talked to him. "The lamps make the water sparkle and reflect in the pool in the most beautiful way."

Zuko didn't know how to respond, so he didn't. But he found himself looking forward to... whatever they were doing.

They finally came to a stop, and Zuko took in an empty square. It was dark, but the fountain burbled in the middle of it, and the candles set on top of wooden posts set in a circle around the fountain weren't lit. Why were they dark?

"I can't believe it!" said Jin. "They aren't lit!"

Zuko looked at Jin, and he was taken aback by her utterly crestfallen expression. Throughout their time together, Jin had expressed little more than a gentle happiness, or excitement, or joy. Her disappointment was foreign to him, and it made his stomach twist. He didn't want her to look like this. To be so... joyless.

He looked at the candles.

"Close your eyes," he said, "and don't peek."

 _Stupid,_ came a whisper from the back of his mind, but he ignored it.

Zuko walked forward, to the circle of candles. He made sure Jin wasn't looking, and he held his hands together, closed his eyes, breathed, relaxed. 

And then his eyes were open, and he found his anger, pushed his leg back, and began to firebend.

Using two fingers on each hand, Zuko sent tiny bursts of flame in every direction one at a time, with a brutal effectiveness that had taken years to master. One by one, the candles caught. One by one, the seconds passed, until finally they were all lit.

He straightened. _This is a bad idea._

But then he looked at Jin, her eyes still closed, and he wondered if it was such a bad idea, after all.

After Song Lee had regained her bearings and mastered her breathing, Ying asked if she knew where she lived. Song Lee didn't know. If she knew that, she explained, she wouldn't be lost, and thus wouldn't have almost had a meltdown.

Fortunately, Ying knew where to find a map of the city.

Ying and Song Lee left the apartment and set out in a new direction. Song Lee's surroundings remained unfamiliar, but Ying was quickly becoming familiar, so it was easy for Song Lee to stay calm, anchored, and in control of her situation. As they walked, Ying kept up a steady string of conversation that Song Lee rarely had to actually respond to. Song Lee _really_ liked Ying—most people didn't enjoy spending time with Song Lee at first, if at all, or at the very least had no idea what to do with her. She was used to the weird looks she often received. But Ying seemed completely at ease next to a mad orphan girl. A mad orphan _refugee,_ even. It was so easy to get used to Ying, and Song Lee found herself become more and more attached as they walked.

At last, they arrived at a break in the buildings, and Song Lee blinked at the abrupt change in scenery. 

In front of them was the entrance to a magnificent garden. Over a metal gate curled branches overflowing with dark pink flowers, and past the gate Song Lee could see more flowers, and fountains, and carefully manicured paths.

"It's a beautiful garden," Ying commented after a brief pause in her chatter.

"Yes," replied Song Lee, staring out over the shadows and flowerbeds.

Then, to her surprise, Ying pushed the gate open and led Song Lee through. "The map is here," she explained as they walked. It was very hard to find any one thing to look at in that garden, but Song Lee loved it, anyway. "It's the only part of the garden that's actually lit. During the day, it's a very popular tourist attraction. In the evening, it's the perfect spot for courting teenagers. I'm sure we'll run into a couple of those by the time we leave again. Do you have anyone special in your life?"

"No," replied Song Lee. She was studying the way a willow tree leaned over so that its wispy leaves almost kissed the water.

"That's no problem. I'm sure you'll find someone, but it's okay if you don't, you know. I was married, once. Didn't go very well." And Ying just kept going from there.

It was nice to just be able to listen to someone talk like that. 

The stars, Song Lee noticed, were very beautiful from the garden. She would have to come back, maybe with Zuko, to point out the constellations and explain why she'd named Nanfang Zhuque the way she had. 

A thought struck her—what had happened to Nanfang Zhuque and Zuko's unnamed ostrich?

Had Tongyi made it safely to Song Lee's aunt?

Song Lee tried not to think about it, deciding that she would just ask General Iroh and Zuko when she found her way home. If Zuko was back from his date by then.

"Here we are," Ying announced, drawing Song Lee from her thoughts. Sure enough, a great map of the city stood in front of them, at least as tall as Song Lee and lit up by low-burning candles stacked up beneath it and lanterns standing beside and above it. There were more pink flowers and dark vines wrapping around the sides and corner, which made Song Lee smile. It was like the garden was trying to swallow the map, to the scale that it seemed a forest was trying to swallow the whole city.

It wasn't doing a very good job, she thought.

"So," said Ying. She stepped forward, careful not to let her robes touch the candles, and pointed to a point near the palace. "We are here. This is where the garden is. See the flower depicting it?"

Song Lee did. Inside the garden, it felt huge. But on the map it was tiny.

"I live here, on this street. The firelight fountain is a block away—see the candle?"

She did.

"Now, do you know where you live?"

She didn't.

"I haven't been in the city for very long," Song Lee explained. "I haven't seen a lot of maps, and the one time I did, I wasn't able to find us on it."

"That's alright," said Ying. She smiled, and then she moved her hand down and pointed at something else. "This is Pao's tea shop."

"There's a teapot," said Song Lee.

"Exactly. Do you think you can find your way home from there?"

Song Lee smiled back.

"Okay," said Zuko. "Now you can look."

"Oh, wow..." said Jin. He was rendered surprised when the stomach-in-knots receded, and he felt light again.

Her eyes were open, and she was taking in the sight of the fountain. It really was beautiful, Zuko thought, and he was almost glad he'd used firebending to make it that way. He wondered, suddenly, if Song Lee would like this, and then he shook the thought off.

"What happened?" asked Jin in amazement. "How did they light? What did you...?"

But Zuko just smiled at her, and she trailed off.

They both looked at the fountain. Zuko examined his work. Jin had been correct about the way the candlelight reflected off of the water, and the circle of candles was genius, really. He wondered if something like it existed in the Fire Nation. 

He was drawn from his thoughts when Jin grabbed his hand. He looked at her; she was smiling. He was glad that she wasn't disappointed anymore. Zuko turned his body to face her, and she did the same, but then she was leaning in, and Zuko felt a burst of panic before grabbing the paper from his pocket and holding it in front of her mouth. 

"I brought you something," he explained. "It's a coupon for a free cup of tea."

"Lee, this is so sweet," she said as she took it from him. 

Zuko felt shame filter through him as he took a few steps away from her, and he said, "Don't thank me. It was my Uncle's idea. He thinks you're our most valuable customer."

"Your Uncle is a good teacher," said Jin. She was still smiling. "I have something for you, too."

She closed the distance again, and she slid her hand up until it rested on his cheek. Such a gentle gesture from such a girl was foreign to him; he didn't know what to feel, how to act. He froze up.

"Now it's your turn to close your eyes," she said.

Zuko almost didn't want to, but he did, anyway. He honestly didn't know what to expect. Was she going to stab him? Was he honestly going to die on his first date? What about—

No, it didn't matter, because then she was kissing him. 

It didn't last long at all. In fact, barely a second had passed before she pulled her lips away from his, but he was suddenly desperate for this intimacy, this affection, so he leaned down and pressed his mouth against hers, and she was so welcoming and warm and—

But he jumped away as abruptly as if she had stabbed him, after all.

She opened her eyes, which had been closed, and just blinked at him for a moment. He stared back, suddenly confused and conflicted and a mess of emotions, before he tore his gaze away and turned and began to walk back the way they had come. His stomach knotted up again. What had he done?

_Stupid._

That voice sounded a little bit like Azula.

"What's wrong?" asked Jin.

"It's complicated," he replied. He hated himself for what he was doing, for everything he had ever done. "I have to go."

 _I'm sorry,_ he said in his head, but he had already shown far too much vulnerability that evening, so he remained silent.

"Well, here you are," said Ying. "Pao's tea shop. You know where you are?"

"Yes," said Song Lee. She pointed. "I live a couple of streets that way in an apartment."

"With your uncle and cousin, yes?"

"Yes," she said again.

"Well, I'll leave you here. I trust you can keep yourself safe. You're practically one of the shadows already."

Song Lee fingered the hilt of her sword and nodded.

Then she bowed.

For a moment, she froze—did people in the Earth Kingdom bow, or was that something only Fire Nation citizens did? Had she just given herself away and doomed Zuko and General Iroh along with her?

But then Ying bowed back, and Song Lee straightened, newly relaxed.

"I will try to visit you in the tea shop," said Ying. "You stay there while your cousin and uncle work, right?"

"Yes."

"There you go, then."

"And I will try to get lost more often. I found that meeting you was very enjoyable."

Ying laughed, and Song Lee smiled, though she didn't know what was very funny. "Well, you know where the garden is," said Ying. "I'm sure you can find me without getting lost."

"I hope so. I don't want to go through a real meltdown."

They bowed again, and then Ying turned and walked in the direction they had come. Song Lee watched her go until she was out of sight, and then she turned and walked in the direction of the apartment she shared with Zuko and General Iroh. She had a lot to tell them about.

Ying was right—Song Lee could absolutely keep herself safe (from everyone except for Princess Azula, anyway). No one bothered her on the short walk back to the apartment, though. In the day, she attracted stares, but in the night, her dark clothes just allowed her to escape notice that much easier.

Song Lee arrived at the building at the exact same moment as Zuko. "Lee!" she said. "You'll never guess what happened to me while you were on that date with Jin." She didn't give him a moment to reply. "I got lost! And I met—"

"Great," interrupted Zuko, turning away and walking into the building. The door slammed behind him, leaving her teetering unsteadily on the street.

What was wrong with him?

Song Lee became worried, and she followed him up to the apartment. She had just opened the front door when she heard General Iroh say, "How was your night, Prince Zuko?"

There was no response other than the slam of a door that she feared cracked the frame. 

Song Lee closed the front door softly behind her. She made her way further into the apartment, where she frowned at General Iroh.

The door to the next room slid open slightly, then, and Song Lee and General Iroh both looked at Zuko when he said, "It was nice," through the crack and closed the door again, this time making a noise softer than a whisper.

General Iroh smiled at that and turned back to trimming the flowers outside the window. Song Lee sank down into her nest and said, "I did what you said, and I got lost."

Zuko was sitting on his cot, holding his head in his hands. His brain was still a mess, and after he closed the screen door again, he listened. For what, he didn't know.

Iroh didn't ask Song Lee about her night, but he didn't have to, because she launched into a whole report about what she had done while Zuko was out. Apparently, she had left after him, moving in the opposite direction, and then she had seen a sword-swallower before she'd gotten lost. She explained how different the city was at night, and she talked about her almost-meltdown and about the old woman named Ying and about the most beautiful garden she had ever seen. She talked about the stars she'd seen from the garden, the map in the garden, her walk back to the tea shop with the old woman.

In the solitude of the make-shift room, Zuko let himself smile.


	13. They Called For That Big Snow

_Zuko and Iroh eventually made it back to their ship, even without the assistance of the cutter-craft or the missing lotus tile. It wasn't even possible to quantify Zuko's anger about that last part, so he didn't even bother trying to rationalize it._

_It wasn't until the sun had disappeared from the sky the day after the Avatar had escaped yet again that Zuko finally made it back to his room. He was ready to collapse and go to sleep, but he straightened in surprise when he noticed that Tongyi was waiting for him, and his eyes widened as he felt a sudden, terrible flash of recognition. When the cutter-craft had gone over the side of the waterfall, he hadn't even thought of the messenger falcon. Apparently, though, it hadn't mattered, because it seemed like he'd saved himself and flown immediately to Zuko's ship, where he had to have been waiting for hours. One of the crewmates must have brought him to Zuko's room and provided him with cake, which was obvious from the empty dish sitting next to Tongyi._

_"Hello," said Zuko._

_Tongyi said nothing. He was, after all, a bird, and neither Zuko nor Song Lee knew how to speak Falcon._

_Zuko almost smiled at that thought._

_Even though he was more tired than he ever remembered being, he sat down at his desk and drew Song Lee's letter from his pocket. It was almost completely soaked through. Song Lee's calligraphy, which was already pretty difficult to read, had almost completely disappeared as the ink ran over the paper._

_He felt that unwelcome burst of shame again. He probably should have left the letter with Tongyi._

_He went over what was left of it, though all he could really make out was her signature at that point. He spread it out over his desk so that it would dry. Maybe it was a waste, but he had saved all of her other letters, and he intended to save that one, too. Luckily, since it had been short, Zuko remembered it pretty well. To be honest, though, he remembered all of her letters pretty well because of how often he read and re-read them. It didn't matter. Her words kept him sane._

**Song Lee,**

**You'll never guess what I just went through in an attempt to catch the Avatar.**

_He wrote about all of it. He wrote about the necklace, the missing tile, the alliance with the pirates, the fight against the Avatar_ and _his friends_ and _the pirates with whom he no longer had an alliance, and the reemergence of the missing tile. He didn't tell her about Tongyi almost getting trapped in the ruined cutter-craft, or how her letter had gotten ruined. He enjoyed receiving letters from her, and preferred to continue receiving them. He didn't want her to think she couldn't trust him with Tongyi._

**My Uncle is fine. I'm sorry I couldn't reply to the fifth letter. The Avatar had nothing to do with his capture. My Uncle was almost fine without my help, actually. He's definitely wanted in the Earth Kingdom, seeing as he did try to capture their capital city a couple of years ago. Also, because he is technically also the Grand Duke of the Fire Nation as well as a renowned general, he would be wanted anywhere that people don't want the Fire Nation. We managed to fight the earthbenders off just fine. They got what was coming to them.**

_He paused, grimaced, and wrote:_

**Tongyi is doing well. He had a rough time getting here, though. I'm going to let him rest for the night before I send him back to you. If I could speak Falcon, I would ask what happened to him. As it is, I'll just wonder.**

_Never mind that it was technically a lie. He had been the one too almost kill Tongyi, after all. After that, though, he forced his tired mind to work for a little bit longer. He thought for a long time about what he wanted to write next._

**I don't think all of the books in the world could hold your theories, because you have so many of them, and because they're so wide-spread across the entire face of astronomy. I think you should try, anyway. Right now, we exist in a time of incredible industrial change. People find and invent things never even heard of before. If we can move across the sea in steam-powered metal warships, then someone somewhere should be able to invent the instruments you need. Maybe when you're older, and you get to travel around, you could go on an adventure to find that kind of inventor. There must be someone who knows exactly what you need, or that you could work with, at least. Imagine the possibilities then.**

I'm getting too excited about this, _he thought._

**Thank you for telling me about the books and scrolls. It will be a while before I can stop at a place I can find one of them, but I will remain on the lookout. They might even allow me to help you with your theories.**

**Other than the sun and the moon and Sozin's Comet, what impact do the cosmos have on bending?**

**I eagerly await your reply,**

**Zuko**

* * *

"Are we lost?" asked Zuko, having to raise his voice to be heard over the sound of the crowd.

"Very possibly," Song Lee said without stopping, her gaze set on the street in front of them.

Iroh had convinced Pao to let Zuko leave early, for which he was grateful, because he hated working in that stars-forsaken tea shop. Song Lee had left with him, and now she was dragging him through the Lower Ring without any explanation as to where they were going. He was getting worried, actually. It wasn't that he didn't _trust_ her, but she really didn't have the best sense of direction to begin with. He would rather they didn't get lost before nightfall, especially since he'd noticed that Song Lee had left her sword in the apartment.

"Song, you have to tell me where we're going," he said, quickening his pace so that he was walking beside her and not behind her.

"Technically, I don't _have_ to tell you anything."

He scowled, but it faded when she turned her face towards him, smiled, and picked up the pace.

Zuko chased after her, and then she was running, and the two of them attracted a lot of stares as they ran through the streets of Ba-Sing-Se, but for once he didn't really care. He didn't mind. He was almost having fun.

"Okay," said Song Lee loudly, suddenly stopping in the middle of the road, and Zuko ran straight into her, and she released a noise of surprise as they toppled to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs.

"Sorry," he mumbled, trying his best to climb off of her without hurting her, but she just rolled over and knocked him off.

She was smiling, though it was obvious from the way she was rubbing her cheek she'd gotten at least a little hurt.

"This is a garden," she said. 

"I'm pretty sure this is actually a street."

"No, look," she said, pointing to her left. He followed her gaze and took in the sight of a black metal gate that stood wide open. A small crowd of people were gathered in the gateway, so he couldn't really see what was past them. "This is where I came with Ying to find my way back home."

"Home?"

"Back to the apartment," she amended. Then she was on her feet, and she held out her hand. Zuko accepted it with a smile of his own, and she hoisted him up with seemingly no effort at all.

For such a lanky girl, she was remarkably strong. Zuko wondered faintly if there would come a time in which he _wasn't_ surprised and impressed by her talent.

"Come on," she said, releasing his hand and walking towards the crowd. "You have to see this. The map is incredible."

"I thought this was a garden."

"There's a map _in_ the garden."

"Oh," he said, and then he caught up with her. She looped her hand through his crooked elbow and kept moving.

Zuko tensed up and glanced around as they pushed past the other people, knowing that the chance that he would be recognized was small but still present, and then he looked at the garden, and he understood why those people were all stopped in the open gateway. He would have stopped, too, had Song Lee not continued walking with her grip tight on his arm.

The garden was beautiful. There were flowers of all colors and varieties, trees everywhere, fountains dotting the open and carefully manicured paths and lawns. There were a lot of people in the garden, too, but he didn't mind. His gaze flickered from the flowers to a small family having a picnic to a cluster of fountains to a woman reading among a twisted maze of Fire Nation-indigenous bonsai trees. How had Song Lee not brought him there earlier? It was breathtaking.

But of course, Song Lee was not looking at the beautiful scenery or the flowers or the fountains or even the people. She just kept pulling him along, eyes focused on the path in front of her.

"You can let go of me if you want," Zuko told her.

She grunted in response but didn't release him. He didn't mind. He'd just make her slow down on the way back from whatever map she was talking about.

A couple of minutes later, she stopped, and Zuko stumbled at the abrupt change in pace before regaining his bearings. He looked up, and sure enough, an enormous map made of engraved and painted stone stood, a little bit taller than Song Lee. It was a map of all of Ba-Sing-Se, which was so much bigger than Zuko had thought it was.

"Here," said Song Lee, finally releasing his elbow and stepping forward, past a young couple who glared and scoffed at her before walking off. "This is where we are."

"Uh-huh," said Zuko.

She pointed. "Right there."

"Sure."

"There's a flower."

"So?"

"So," she said, "the flower represents the garden."

Zuko didn't really understand why she was more excited about the map than the garden itself. "If you say so," he said, crossing his arms and leaning back against a tree.

"This," she said, pointing somewhere else, "is the tea shop."

"Ugh."

"Which means we live somewhere around here." She used her finger to draw invisible circles near the tea shop.

"Great."

"Which _means_ that Ying lives around _here."_ She circled somewhere completely different.

"What?" asked Zuko. "That's nowhere near... what does that have to do—who's Ying?"

Song Lee didn't even glance at him. She continued staring at the map, reaching up and rubbing her hair. "Ying's the lady that found me."

"Found you?"

"When I got lost."

"Oh."

"Okay, let's go," she said, and then she was hurrying back the way she came.

"Wait, Song," he said, stepping forward and grabbing _her_ elbow. "I want to look at the garden some more."

She shook her head. "It isn't as memorable at day," she said. "We should come back at night. The fountains reflect the starlight."

"But—"

She took advantage of his grip on her arm to propel them both forward. "Just needed to see the map," she told him. "We'll come back another time, at night."

He sighed, but knew that he couldn't do much once her mind was made up. "Fine. You promise?"

"I don't need to promise. I want to come back just as much as you do, you know."

Zuko doubted that very much, but he said nothing of it.

The two of them made their way back through the garden, through the crowd stopped at the gateway, and back into the streets of the Lower Ring. 

"So do you know where you're going _now,_ or are we lost again?" he asked.

She didn't reply, which he thought was a bad sign, but he followed her anyway. He didn't mind.

"Song," said the woman who opened the door with a smile. "It's nice to see you again."

The woman was tall, though slightly shorter than him, but with wider shoulders and hips that gave Zuko the impression that she was strong underneath her simple but elegant green and white robes. She had a pale complexion and medium brown hair that was half tied back and streaked with grey.

He took all of that in through the span of a second, and then she turned her smile to him, and he had no idea what to do.

"Who are you?" she asked. She said with more curiosity than hostility, though. She glanced at his scar, but she didn't seem to recognize him.

Zuko laughed nervously and said, "Uh, I'm Lee."

"Lee."

"I... Song's cousin."

"Oh, _you're_ Song's cousin!" she said. She reached out and grabbed his fingers in calloused hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you, young man."

"You're Ying?" he guessed.

She released him and bowed. "Indeed." She straightened, smiled again, stepped aside. "Come in, please—I've already put a pot of tea on."

Zuko was about to tell her he didn't want tea, but then Song Lee was moving past Ying and saying, "Did you make jasmine?"

"Well, I was thinking more like an oolong blend..."

Song Lee paused and stared at the older woman.

"I can make jasmine, too," said Ying.

"Jasmine's my favorite," replied Song Lee, and then she continued on in.

Zuko shook his head and followed. Ying was already making conversation with Song Lee, but neither seemed to mind the rather one-sided nature of it.

Also, there were a _lot_ of plants in Ying's apartment.

"Um," said Zuko. "I don't... _We_ don't know how to dance."

"Don't know how to dance!" said Ying, who looked horrified.

"I know how," said Song Lee. Ying and Zuko looked at her. She was inspecting the windowsill. "My teacher used dance lessons as a practice for grace and discipline. I didn't like it at first, and I was never good at it."

Ying and Zuko continued to stare at Song Lee, but she said nothing else. She just reached forward and lightly touched an almost-bloomed red flower growing right below the windowsill. 

“Careful,” Ying said, and Song Lee took her hand back. 

“Well?” asked Zuko. 

“Well what?” asked Song Lee. 

“Did the dance lessons work?”

”No. I am still as graceful as a rhinocerophaunt.”

”Oh, I don’t think that is true,” said Ying. She smiled. “What if you two tried dancing?”

”Um,” said Zuko, but Ying has already left the room. 

A quiet permeated the plant-infested space that, to Zuko, felt awkward. 

“Um,” he repeated, and Song Lee glanced in his general direction. “What kind of... dances... did your teacher teach you?”

Song Lee shrugged. “Some ancient Fire Nation traditional dance,” she said. “He tried to teach me a couple Earth Kingdom dances, too, but those didn’t go over well at all. It took his assistant forever to clean up the ruins of his odd meditationknnnnnnnnnnn room.”

”Do you remember them?”

”I remember almost everything my teacher taught me,” she said, and then she paused. “Though it may be hard to replicate my memories.”

Ying made her way back into the room, lugging a giant wooden board with her. Zuko was on his feet in an instant, unsure what to do, and he watched as Song Lee’s attention visibly snapped to the board. Ying sat down on her sofa with a satisfied sigh and moved the board in front of her. Zuko could make out dozens of strings running parallel over it. "What is that?” asked Song Lee. Zuko couldn’t tell if she was wary or curious or something else entirely. 

“This,” said Ying, running her fingers over the strings without actually touching them, “is a guzheng.”

”It’s huge,” said Zuko. 

“Well, it’s a meter and a half long,” said Ying. 

“It looks like a gigantic koto,” said Song Lee.

”Well, yes,” said Ying, who looked surprised. “The koto is a Fire Nation instrument derived from the guzheng. How did you know that, Song?”

”She studied music while she studied dancing and grace with her teacher,” said Zuko quickly. “They must have touched on Fire Nation instruments then.”

”Hm,” said Ying, and then she smiled and played a quick, simple melody on the guzheng. “Well, if you can remember the koto, I’m sure you can remember your dances.”

”Well, I really don’t—“

”Stand up and teach your cousin!” said Ying, a bright smile on her face. 

And Song Lee stood and held out her hand for Zuko to take.

Zuko didn't know what to do. To be honest, he really didn't want to dance, and he didn't think she did, either. He barely knew Ying, and Song Lee had almost blown their cover, so he didn't want to spend more time with the older woman than he needed to.

But she was determined, and he couldn't see how he could get out of that situation, so he took Song Lee's hand, and she moved him closer to her. "I'll lead," she said. "I'm going to try a more modern Earth Kingdom dance. Fast-paced and simple. Okay?"

"Okay," grumbled Zuko. He felt a little bit humiliated that the girl in front of him had to lead him through a dance that he, as Fire Nation royalty, should probably know, even if she was taller than him.

And then Ying started playing the strings on the guzheng, and Song Lee was moving his hands along her arms, and they were dancing.

Zuko didn't really know what kind of dance they were trying to mimic. Song Lee hadn't been exaggerating when she'd said that the dances had failed in making her graceful, but he tried to follow along to the best of his ability. "Many of the Earth Kingdom dances include costumes and many more performers," Song Lee said as she jumped in place and pressed her hands against his arms. "The costumes are not very graceful, either."

"Hm," said Zuko in response. He was really just focusing on not falling over.

The dance continued with the song, and Zuko wasn't really sure what he was supposed to do. Song Lee explained that he was a lion and she was a younger lion, though technically a lion costume was performed by two people. When he told her that he still didn't understand, she just smiled and shook her head and kept dancing around, saying that she didn't know what she was doing, either.

Ying didn't seem to mind. She just kept playing the guzheng. He wondered how long it had taken her to learn to play so well.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the song finished and Song Lee collapsed in her chair, her face transformed by a blazing smile. Her skin glowed under a sheen of sweat, and Zuko didn't remember the last time, if ever, he'd seen her smile like that. It was obvious that she'd had fun dancing, even if she was bad at it.

She looked at him, and she scrunched her nose up, even though her smile remained prominent.

He scrunched up his nose right back at her and sat down in the other chair. "Thanks," he told Ying. He hadn't exerted nearly as much energy as Song Lee had, but even he was a little out of breath.

"You're welcome," said Ying. "Do you want more tea?"

"Jasmine?" asked Song Lee.

"Of course, dear. Lee?"

"Jasmine's fine," said Zuko. "Thanks."

Ying left the guzheng behind and went to go make tea.

"Why did your teacher bother with Earth Kingdom dances?" asked Zuko quietly. "I thought you were taught in the Fire Nation."

"I was," said Song Lee, her gaze still glued to the window. "I don't remember why he insisted. Maybe it was because he thought Earth Kingdom dances were better than Fire Nation dances."

"I didn't know the Fire Nation _had_ traditional dances," he admitted.

"Me, neither. Maybe that's part of it. But he did teach me a couple."

"Were they like that weird dance about the lions?"

She looked at him. "No. It was a little more complicated. It wasn't as fun."

"What about Water Tribe dances? Or Air Nomad dances?"

"As far as I'm aware, they practice no more dances than the Fire Nation does now." She looked up at the ceiling. "And the Air Nomads were wiped out—I doubt any memories of their traditional dances, if there were dances, would remain."

He was quiet for a moment, and then he said, "What if you made up your own dance?"

She looked at him again. "I don't want to hurt Ying's plants."

Zuko laughed. "Well, not here, then. Somewhere else."

"It would bring disaster wherever I tried it."

"But you thought the lion dance was fun."

"I guess." She paused, and then she brightened. "Do you think there are dances that involve a sword?"

Zuko's smile vanished. "Um."

"Probably not," she said. "I'm sure my teacher would have tried to teach me that."

"Why would your teacher teach you a sword dance?"

"He's the one who taught me how to use a sword," said Song Lee, as if it were obvious.

Zuko shook his head but didn't inquire further. What kind of a teacher would spend two years teaching Song Lee sword fighting, dance, and calligraphy? It was such an odd variety of topics.

Ying returned then, another pot of tea in hand. Zuko hadn't had any tea earlier, but he was at least a little thirsty after the odd lion dance, so he accepted the cup that Ying offered him. He glanced at Song Lee, who yawned suddenly, and then he was overtaken by a yawn, too.

He drank from the teacup and leaned back in his chair. 

"You should play another song," said Song Lee.

Ying smiled back and ran her fingers over the strings, starting a song, this one much slower and sweeter-sounding. Song Lee looked back out the window. Zuko watched as she gazed out at the sky, where the atmosphere was changing colors and the clouds turned pink. It would be night eventually. He wondered if she wanted to go by the garden on the way back from Ying's house. If the stars were like what she said they were, he imagined that she would want to go, anyway.

This time while Ying played, she sang. She didn't sing loudly, like a performer would—in fact, she didn't seem to be aware that she was singing at all. Her eyes were half-lidded, and her voice was producing more humming than words, but the mixture of the guzheng strings and her voice and the warm jasmine tea made him tired and inexplicably content as he was.

He glanced back at Song Lee. She was draped over her chair, her head tilted backwards towards the window and her arm flung over the back of her chair, her other hand brushing the floor. 

He wondered why her hair curled over her ears the way it did. It wasn't as straight as his was. When it had been long, though, she always had it in a braid coiled around the back of her head—he assumed that was the case, anyway. Was it curly when it was longer, too?

Zuko didn't know. He didn't want to ask. He yawned again, and then he let his head rest on the back of the chair, and then he closed his eyes for just a moment...

"Nephew," he heard.

Zuko groaned and shifted, trying to block out the voice. He was having a wonderful dream.

"Nephew," he heard again, and this time he blinked awake.

What had that dream been about? He'd had...

He didn't remember.

"Uncle?" he asked blankly.

"Wake up, Nephew," said Iroh.

"What are you doing here?"

Zuko looked around. He was still in Ying's apartment, but the sky outside the window was dark and the guzheng was vacant. 

Song Lee was awake, bent over the guzheng and running her fingers up and down the strings. "25 of them," she said. "There are 25."

"Song Lee told me where you two would be going," Iroh told him. "That was some garden she took you to."

"We should go to the garden again," said Zuko, stretching, still drowsy.

"Later?"

"Now."

"Oh, yes!" said Song Lee cheerfully, turning towards them, a smile on her face.

"No, not now," said Iroh. "It is nearly the middle of the night. We need to go home."

"You can go to the garden another time," said Ying from behind him, and Zuko startled and turned to face her. She smiled. "You could come back here if you wanted, too."

"Okay," said Song Lee. She bowed to Ying, who bowed back.

"Thanks for... the tea," said Zuko. "And the songs. And letting us sleep here."

"Well, _I_ didn't sleep," said Song Lee, paying no mind to the scowl Zuko sent her way.

"You're welcome, Lee," said Ying. "I hope to see you again. It was nice to meet you—you, too, Mushi."

Iroh smiled, and Zuko rolled his eyes at what he knew was to come next. "It is always a pleasure to meet a beautiful lady, even under unconventional circumstances" Iroh said.

Then, to Zuko's surprise, Ying's smile stiffened. She didn't reply the way most women did to his flirtatious nature, it seemed. "Yes, well," she said. "Thank you. Now..." She motioned in the direction of the door.

"Come on, you two," Iroh said, and Zuko and Song Lee followed him out of the apartment.

They did pass the garden on their way back. The gates were closed. Zuko glanced through the loose black metalwork at the flowers and wondered when they would actually find time to return. Song Lee didn't even seem to notice it. She just kept walking in the direction of the tea shop.

He wondered what else she knew about the city that he didn't. 


	14. Man, I Thought That I Would Never Get Warm

**The Seventh Letter**

_The silence of the night had the habit of pressing down on anyone without the security of a ring of firelight. The Blue Spirit had done his best to become an unfeeling part of that silence, but every unexplained sound, every movement he hadn't already noticed made his pulse accelerate to the point of barely being able to hear anything over the raging sound of his heartbeat._

_Despite his surmounting anxiety, however, he wouldn't allow himself to turn his gaze away from the Yu Yan Archers from his place on top of the watchtower overlooking the courtyard in which they were practicing. If they noticed him, he knew that they would end his life in less than an instant. The archers really had become a part of the night._

_Though his gaze remained on the archers, his focused was on the conversation happening below, inside of the watchtower he was hiding on top of. Both of the men were certainly talking loud enough for him to hear what they were saying._

_"Absolutely not," one of them was saying. "The Yu Yan Archers stay here. Your request is denied, Commander Zhao."_

_The Blue Spirit thought it was worrying that Zhao had been promoted so quickly, but he was pleased that the other man seemed to have the right idea about him. "Colonel Shinu, please reconsider," said Zhao. "Their precision is legendary. The Yu Yan can pin a fly to a tree from a hundred yards away—without killing it. You're wasting their talents using them as mere security guards."_

_"I can do whatever I want with their talents. They're my security guards, and what I say goes."_

_"But my search for the Avatar is—"_

_"—is nothing but a vanity project!" snapped Colonel Shinu. The Blue Spirit smiled under the mask. "We're fighting a real war here, and I need every man I've got, Commander."_

_"But—"_

_"That's final! I don't want to hear another word about it."_

_Before the last word had left the colonel's mouth, a shape encased in the shadows of the night dove past him. The Blue Spirit's pulse skittered and breathing turned shallow as he flattened himself to the roof, and then he hurried over to the side of the watchtower. His heartbeat was uneven and loud and made it difficult to focus, but the shape had definitely been a messenger falcon. For a fleeting moment, the Blue Spirit thought that it was Tongyi, and he panicked, but then he started taking in that the falcon was smaller, darker in color, and had two perfectly intact eyes. He shrank away from the side before any of the archers could see him, straining his ears for news with bated breath._

_"News from the Fire Lord?" asked Zhao, and the Blue Spirit's heartbeat seemed to pause. A moment passed, and then Zhao added, "It appears I've been promoted to Admiral."_

_Oh, no._

_"Admiral?" asked Shinu. "I was under the impression that Vice Admiral Hegu was next in line for that position. What happened to him?"_

_"Hegu is... unable to take up a new post at the moment. And, Shinu? My request is now an order."_

_At that point, it was hard to hear anything over the roaring in his ears. With no more to learn, the Blue Spirit scaled down the side of the watchtower, careful not to let the archers notice him. His mind was racing almost as fast as his heart was._

_After he made it a decent ways away from Shinu's fort, he took the mask off and wiped perspiration from his brow. He didn't enjoy wearing it—it’s significance to his mother was stronger than anything else he owned. As he walked back to the ship, staying close to the road but out of sight of anyone traveling on it, he considered everything he had heard. Why had the order come directly to Zhao from the Fire Lord? Was the Fire Lord aware of Zhao's obsession with capturing the Avatar, or was the promotion unrelated and Zhao was simply taking advantage of his new position?_

_Less importantly, and yet more important at the same time: what was wrong with Vice Admiral Hegu, and why was he passed over for the promotion to Admiral?_

_Of course, it was right at that moment that a screech exploded from the air next to his ear. Zuko released a shout in alarm and ducked down, backing up just enough to press his hands out in front of him in an firebending attack, but he stopped himself right before he could release it, because a messenger falcon was sitting in the tree next to him, this one definitely familiar._

_"What's_ wrong _with you?" he asked it, still trying to get his breathing under control._

_In response, Tongyi jumped and landed on his shoulder._

_"I'm not going to write a reply right now," he said, his voice bitter. He took the letter from the carrier and launched the bird back into the air. "Go home." He couldn't afford any distractions with Zhao getting closer every day to capturing the Avatar before Zuko even got a chance, and that included writing to Song Lee, at least at that point in time._

_It took a couple of hours, but Zuko finally returned to his ship. No one noticed him sneak into his room, but Tongyi was waiting on the deck for him. He launched him again before anyone could see him, and Tongyi finally left, flying south. Back to Song Lee._

_Zuko returned to his room, changed, and hung up his broadswords before he finally allowed himself to sit down and read Song Lee's letter._

**Prince Zuko,**

**As always, the stories of your adventures are beyond interesting. Sometimes it is almost as if you are a character in a storybook. What do you think will happen next in the story?**

**I have heard that you and your Uncle are very powerful benders. I would very much enjoy seeing you in action. If I could speak Falcon, I am sure that Tongyi would have many stories of his own for me. I wonder how many animals he has hunted. How much cake has he stolen? Has he met other messenger hawks? Does he have friends? I will likely never find out.**

**It is very difficult to organize my astronomical theories in a concise manner. Writing lots of books, rather than just one, would probably help. I am very taken with your ideas about tracking down and working with an inventor. It would be a story to be told. Do you know any inventors? Perhaps I could find some of the authors of the astronomy scrolls and books I have read and work with them as well, assuming they are still alive. However, I doubt that they would enjoy working with me. Teamwork is not my strong suit, as I can talk too much to get along with.**

**As I have mentioned in a previous letter, firebenders get their ability to bend from the sun. Celestial bodies, such as comets, can make that ability stronger. As a result, you would be strongest during the day. It is the opposite for waterbenders. They get their ability to bend from the moon, and are therefore much stronger during the night. Two evenly talented and matched benders, one fire and one water, could only have a fair night for a short period of time at precisely dawn or dusk. If working together, they would also be the strongest as one unit during one of these periods.**

**I know next to nothing about airbending, as the only texts I can find on them tend to be little more than statistical, historical, or religious scrolls directly written by the Air Nomads. I would imagine, however, that they got their ability to bend from the sheer expanse of the world's atmosphere (as well as their supposed connections to the spirits). As a result, there could be no external modifiers, other than their own energy, and there would be no scheduled moments in which they were weaker or stronger. Earthbenders, on the other hand, get their ability to bend from a solid body, such as the planet or a meteorite. It would be possible, if they could make it there, to bend satellites such as the moon. Like the former airbenders, they are rarely without their source of bending, and so the only possible modifier would be the quality of the earth or the energy of the bender.**

**If it could be understood why the sun pertains to firebending in the same way that the moon pertains to waterbending, it would be much easier to understand your bending, which very well could lead to you focusing and improving your bending even further. I am not a bender, unfortunately, so I know little on the subject in terms of experience.**

**I eagerly await your reply.**

**Song Lee**

_Song Lee's letter had created a lot more questions for him to ask, and he regretted sending Tongyi away. He found it hard to read the letter again. Writing these letters was so important to Song Lee, and he had been the one to agree in the first place._

_He exhaled and pushed the thought out of his mind. The letter got rolled up and placed with the others. Zuko turned his mind back to how he could combat Zhao's newfound power, though his guilt never went away completely._

* * *

Song Lee was getting very tired of reading the same book over and over again. Usually, with textbooks or scrolls, it was fine and helped her remember what they contained, but with fiction, the stupidity of the main character was getting tiresome. Song Lee was glad that her own adventures were fun without requiring that she fall in love with a random boy who saved her life on accident, which was exactly what happened in the book.

Why were books _like_ that all the time?

Song Lee shut the book quietly and pushed it away from her, staring at it. It was pretty enough, all things considered. Books were somewhat of a commodity, since most of the literature and knowledge of the Fire Nation, the Earth Kingdom, and even the Water Tribes were preserved in scrolls, and she knew that she should consider herself lucky for owning a book of her own, but she just didn’t like fiction that involved more romance than adventure. The book didn't have much adventure to begin with. Sure, the book gave Song Lee a good idea on how to behave should she ever actually acquire a significant other, but she very much doubted that would ever happen. 

As the thought crossed her mind, Zuko set down a tray of dirty teacups at her table and sat down across from her with a sigh. The tea shop wasn’t as busy as it normally was, so Song Lee got her own table, but Zuko was still kept very busy on his own. She glanced up at him as he sat down, and then she returned her gaze to the novel.

“How many times have you read that book?” he asked her. 

“Twice in the last week.”

”What about before then?”

”Four and a half times since I got it.”

Zuko shook his head and sagged in his seat. 

Song Lee let her eyes drift over him. His hair had grown much longer since she’d started traveling with him, though it was still very short. Iroh still trimmed it sometimes, to keep it neat, but he wasn't practically bald anymore, and Song Lee decided that was a definite plus.

“You’ve really let your hair grow,” she remarked. “Why did you stop shaving it?”

”Seriously?”

She shrugged. He had lowered his voice, but no one seemed to be listening to them, so she didn’t bother matching his tone. The tea shop was plenty loud, anyway. “You’ve barely touched it, not counting what your uncle does to it, ever since you’ve become a fugitive from the Fire Nation.”

”I stopped _because_ I’ve become a fugitive from the Fire Nation, Song.”

Song Lee pushed her book aside and leaned forward over the table. “Explain.” 

Zuko looked out over the other people in the tea shop, sighing. Song Lee followed his gaze, but when he started talking, she looked at him again. “I’ve got to clean these,” he said, picking up one of the teacups. 

“You have time,” said Song Lee. 

“I mean... I don’t...”

”Are you avoiding the question?”

”What? No. Of course not. Why would I do that?”

”I asked my question first."

He sighed again, and then he leaned back in his chair and said, “You know, fine, okay. But you’ve got to lower your tone.”

”Nobody’s listening.”

”You don’t know that.”

”But—“

”Song, please.”

”Fine,” she said, leaning in further and lowering her tone to a stage whisper. “Go on.”

Zuko stopped scowling, and he leaned in, too. “Do you know why I was shaving my head in the first place?”

”No.”

"Well," he started in a whisper, "in the Fire Nation, it's a common practice to shave your head after the loss of an Agni Kai."

"Why?"

"Um, well, there's a lot having to do with a blow to someone's honor, and the shame of defeat."

"Because long hair is a symbol of honor in the Fire Nation?"

"Exactly."

"Did Admiral Zhao shave his head after you defeated him in an Agni Kai?"

Song Lee watched in admiration as Zuko smiled. "No, he didn't. Then again, he doesn't have much honor to begin with."

"Well, I did know that. I'm glad I only met him once. My father didn't like him at all."

Zuko studied her for a moment, and she looked at the other people in the tea shop. No one was looking their way.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said, confused as to why he would ask. "But after the initial defeat, wouldn't you allowed to grow your hair back?"

Zuko averted his gaze. "Usually. Yes. But after my defeat against the Fire Lord, he exiled me until I could catch the Avatar. My defeat wasn't over. I decided that I would let my hair grow after my honor was restored and not before then."

"But you kept your ponytail."

He looked at her and smiled again. "Well, yeah."

"You looked silly when I first met you."

His smile disappeared, and he scowled, but he blushed, too. "Yes, I know, but at the time I still had some hope of returning home."

"What does that have to do with the ponytail?"

"Top knots are extremely important in the Fire Nation," he said. "It's a matter of status and tradition. Those are more important than the shame of defeat. You only cut the top knot off if something happens that is equivalent to death."

"But when I started traveling with you, you were practically bald. Your ponytail was gone."

"Yes. Because after the Fire Lord sent Azula to take me and Uncle as prisoners, we knew there was no returning home at _all._ Do you know how hard...?"

Zuko trailed off, and Song Lee inspected his face. His breathing had changed, and she couldn't recognize his expression, but she reluctantly held her hand out in case he wanted it.

He took it and held it tightly.

"The permanent separation from home was akin to death," she guessed.

"Yeah," he said, his voice rougher than normal. His grip tightened.

"Well," she said, "I'm glad I've never had to worry about that. Honor doesn't really mean much to me."

He laughed, his voice still ragged, though Song Lee couldn't tell what she'd said that was so funny. "I know," he said. "You cut your hair short because you _didn't want to take care of it."_

"I've never worn a top knot of my own volition."

He smiled, and he released her hand. "I know," he said. "Um... thanks."

"For what?"

Before Zuko could reply, General Iroh appeared next to their table. Both teenagers straightened as Song Lee inspected his face, which was devoid of its usual joy or contentment or whatever he called his usual sense of happiness. In fact, Song Lee thought he looked afraid.

"Niece," he said, his voice low, "He's here."

Song Lee frowned and exchanged a glance with Zuko. "Who's here?"

"Mio."

The world froze. Her breathing paused. Her heartbeat skipped. The world seemed ready to close in around her. 

"Who?" she vaguely heard Zuko ask. She had forgotten all about Mio, how he said he was coming to Ba Sing Se, how she had left him alive, how he had sworn revenge. 

Mio had been ready to kill her. She very much doubted his sentiments had changed.

"I don't have my sword!" said Song Lee, suddenly frantic. The world resumed its pace.

"You need to go out the back way before he sees you."

"Did he see _you?"_

"No, but that doesn't matter. My nephew and I have Pao's legal protection. _You_ must go."

She stood, but then Zuko grabbed her hand, and she sat back down on instinct. "Wait," he said, his eyes wide. "What's going on? Who's Mio?"

"I will tell you later." She pulled her hand out of his grip and stood again. "I can't fight well without a sword. Is he...?"

Song Lee didn't need to finish her sentence, because as she looked out over the tea shop, she made immediate eye contact with a too-familiar boy standing in the doorway.

Ah, _there_ he was. 

Before anything could happen, or anyone else could do anything, Song Lee's mind was already mapping out escape routes. General Iroh was right; she'd definitely need to go out the back way. There were eight different ways to get there. Which was the fastest, the safest, the right mix between the two?

In the span of less than five seconds, she had decided.

Song Lee climbed onto her chair and then to the table, ignoring Zuko's protests, and then she jumped to the next table, and the next. She cleared the entire shop in another five seconds, much to the indignation of the individuals sitting at the tables, and then she vaulted around the corner and ran out the back way. 

She burst out into the alley, slammed against the wall opposite from the door to steady herself, ran towards the street as fast as she—

Before she could comprehend what was happening, Mio had her wrist in his hand and used her speed and inertia to slingshot her around with enough force to knock the breath out of her body when her back hit the wall of the tea shop. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed, Mio's grip on her wrist, which he held tightly against the wall, being the only thing keeping her upright.

"I should have known you would be here." Song Lee was barely aware that he was talking. She was far too busy struggling to force air into her lungs.

Mio hauled her to her feet and pushed her back against the wall, this time pinning her shoulders to keep her from falling. She finally managed to catch her breath, so she swung her legs up and tried to kick him away, but he released her shoulders and she collapsed again.

"There's a big reward being offered for the Black Wing in the Fire Nation," he said, crouching down in front of her. "You're wanted dead or alive, you know. Do you know what that means? I get to kill you _right now_ and get _paid_ for it."

"Why didn't you just tell people who I was?" she asked, barely able to speak. She moved away from the wall and tried to sit up, but Mio leaned back and kicked her in the throat— _hard_. She went down, choking and struggling to breathe again.

"You know, I didn't want anyone to get to you before I could." Mio straightened up and moved so that he was standing above her. "This is _personal._ You almost killed me. But now it is _I_ that gets to enjoy the satisfaction of your death. Just like I promised, right?"

 _Arrogant,_ Song Lee wanted to say, but not only could she barely move, she found it impossible to speak. Everything hurt, and then Mio was pressing down on her chest with his boot, making it impossible to breathe at all. She tried clawing at his leg, or shoving it off, but the pressure just increased. The world went blurry, and she tried to gasp, but nothing made it in. _Everything hurt._ She turned her head and waited to die.

She wondered what her aunt would do when she died. She wondered where Tongyi would go. For some absurd reason, though, it was Zuko that appeared last in her mind. Song Lee wondered if he could find a place to be happy.

The pressure disappeared just as the world went white. That was it; she was dead. She gasped as she took in air again, increasingly aware of that everything still hurt, especially her chest and throat, but at least she could breathe again. 

But if everything still hurt, then she _couldn't_ be dead. That wasn't how it worked. 

She opened her eyes, understanding that she wasn't dead, that she was somehow still alive, that something had happened to get Mio off of her. She slowly sat up, even though it felt like the hardest thing she had ever done, and she pressed the tears away from her eyes. She was seeing double. There were two Mios in front of her, both about to murder her right there.

But then she blinked, allowing her to see clearly, and she realized that only one Mio was standing before her. The other figure was Zuko, who must have been the one to push him off of her.

"Who are _you?"_ asked Mio.

Zuko was tense, but he didn't seem afraid or particularly angry. "Leave her alone."

Song Lee turned away from them and focused on her breathing. She reached up and, as gently as she could, touched the rapidly bruising skin around her neck, where Mio had kicked her. She didn't think anything had ever hurt so much, and it was still difficult to breathe at all.

She moved her hand to her face, rendered surprised that her cheeks were slick with tears. She didn't remember crying _that_ much. Well, at least it explained why she was finding it so difficult to see.

Song Lee glanced back at Mio and Zuko. Mio was on the ground, his hands suspended above him. Zuko was talking to him, still tense. She couldn't make out what he was saying, but she didn't really care. 

Using the wall for support, Song Lee slowly, slowly stood up. She leaned against it as she moved in starts and stops, forcing herself to keep going, to get away. She needed to get help. An officer, a Dai Li agent, _anyone._ No one else was watching the fight. She needed to hurry, but she couldn't let go of the wall without collapsing again.

As she turned the corner, into the street, General Iroh appeared in front of her. "Song!" he said, and she flinched.

Song Lee found that was still completely unable to speak. She clutched at her throat with one hand, using her shoulder for support against the wall, and used her other hand to point past the tea shop, silently pleading for help. 

"You're shaking," said General Iroh. She hadn't noticed that until he'd pointed it out. "I'll find some help. You need to go home."

Song Lee nodded, and then he was gone.

Instead of going home, considering she couldn't get off of the wall, she returned to the corner, turning just her head around it so that she could observe the fight without Mio trying to kill her again. She knew Zuko could handle himself, but she needed to know that he was okay. Of course, he was fine when Song Lee found them again. Zuko had Mio's arms angled behind him and Mio's body restrained against the tea shop's wall. Mio had never been much of a fighter. 

Song Lee forced herself to meet Mio's gaze. She had never seen such a deep, recognizable concentration of hatred before. It frightened her. 

"Are you okay?" she heard Zuko ask, and she looked away from Mio. Zuko was still tense, but his own gaze wasn't nearly as harsh as Mio's was. He was looked at her like he genuinely wanted to understand if she really was okay.

Song Lee didn't even consider lying. She shook her head, keeping her hand up to her throat. 

Zuko nodded and turned back to Mio, watching him closely. Her answer had caused his grip on Mio to tighten, and Mio whispered curses under his breath. 

General Iroh quickly returned with two Dai Li agents. Zuko handed Mio over, and then they were gone, taking Mio with them. The agents made no fuss, though as they took Mio, he took the opportunity to shout further death threats at Song Lee. His words didn't bother her. That's what she told herself. Her hand stayed on her throat as Zuko moved to stand next to her, and they watched Mio get dragged away.

"We should return to the apartment," said General Iroh. His voice sounded muffled. "I will speak with Pao."

"He'll let you do that?" asked Zuko, who she could hear perfectly.

She didn't hear General Iroh reply, though she was aware that he went inside the tea shop.

"Song Lee," she heard Zuko say, his voice quiet. His arm brushed against hers as he stepped closer to her, though she didn't look at him. "Will you be okay?"

She let go of the wall, leaning on him for support instead. His arm immediately sprang up to accommodate her. After a few failed attempts, Song Lee was finally able to say, "I always end up okay." Her voice was rough, and difficult for even her to understand, but it was something, even if it hurt to speak. "Your sister almost killed me with a poisoned blade. If... if I could survive that, there isn't m-much I can't make it through."

"You're shaking."

Song Lee looked up at his hair, which they had been discussing mere minutes before. It felt like forever ago. It had dust in it after his fight with Mio. That was new. "Yeah." 

She reached up with the hand that wasn’t holding her throat and started brushing the dust out of his hair. Despite his aversion to his uncle touching his hair, he didn’t even scowl at Song Lee. Instead, he reached up and gently grabbed her wrist. Her hand fell still. 

“Let’s get you back to the apartment,” he said. 

She nodded, and he released her arm. Her hand fell away from him, but he still offered her his support.

Though everything still hurt, Song Lee knew that she would end up okay. She always did, especially when Zuko was there.


	15. Did You Ever Get Warm?

**The Eighth Letter**

_The next time Tongyi came, Zuko was once again preoccupied. He had finally found a use for the Water Tribe girl's necklace, and he and Iroh had hired a bounty hunter named June to use her shirshu to help track her, and by extension the Avatar. It was his first real lead in months, and when Tongyi landed without any warning at all on Zuko's shoulder, all three of them startled._

_"Did your girlfriend write to ask for forgiveness?" asked June. She was referring to the Water Tribe girl._

_"Be quiet," said Zuko. The thought of being romantically entangled with anyone that close to the Avatar made him feel nauseous._

_"Is it Song Lee?" asked Iroh._

_"That's not relevant," said Zuko as he slid the letter out of the carrier, though he knew that Iroh probably recognized the distinctive falcon._

_June held her hand out, and Tongyi snapped at her. Zuko smiled, and she rolled her eyes and said, "Well, it's a handsome bird."_

_"Go home," said Zuko, launching Tongyi back into the sky. He wouldn't be able to reply this time, either. To June, he said, "What did we stop for? Keep going."_

_She rolled her eyes again, but she complied._

_Making sure that Iroh wouldn't turn around to look at the letter, Zuko unrolled it, anxious all at once to see how Song Lee had reacted to his lack of a reply to the seventh letter._

**Prince Zuko,**

**When Tongyi returned without a letter in his carrier, I had no choice but to conclude that your letter was intercepted and that you are in danger. Tongyi is an excellent messenger falcon, too good at his job to simply lose a letter. In my many months with Tongyi by my side, he has never once lost a letter. He was intercepted once, however; my aunt was sending me a reply to a question I had asked about Fire Nation politics. Neither of us are sure why her reply was confiscated.**

**I very much hope to know if you are all right. Are you in immediate danger? What in your reply could have been confiscation-worthy? Is General Iroh all right? As always, how goes your search for the Avatar?**

**I eagerly await your reply.**

**Song Lee**

_Once again, Zuko found himself unable to read the letter through again. It really wasn't fair at all to Song Lee that he wouldn't send a simple reply when she put in so much effort. Next time, he promised himself, he would reply, no matter what. In the worst case scenario, Zuko could just keep Tongyi with him until he could reply, assuming he was in the middle of something again._

_Zuko shook his thoughts out of his head and turned his attention back to the task at hand._

* * *

It didn't take long to get Song Lee home. About halfway back she seemed to regain the ability to support herself, but she still hung onto his arm. The whole way there, she didn't stop shaking, which continued even after they made it back and she retreated to her blanket-nest. Zuko gave her some of his blankets, which she quickly incorporated into the nest, but she still didn't seem able to calm down. Her eyes, though they didn't meet his, were wide as they analyzed and reanalyzed the apartment, and instead of sitting down, she remained in a crouch. Furthermore, her sword remained drawn and in her hand. The reflection of light off of the metal kept distracting him, and even though he didn't think Song Lee was planning on using her sword, he wasn't entirely sure _what_ she would do if she didn't calm down.

When Iroh returned, he set about making a pot of jasmine tea. Zuko focused on trying to help her recover from the whole Mio experience, though he wasn't doing a very good job. The area on her throat she kept shielding from him had yet to stop darkening as it bruised, which was noticeable even on her skin, and loud or sudden noises made her flinch. She didn't stop shaking, either. 

Honestly, it was an understatement to merely say that he was worried about her. That being said, though, he was also terribly confused about who Mio even was and why he'd attacked Song Lee in the first place.

When Iroh joined him, a tea tray in hand, Song Lee was rocking in place on the balls of her feet while fidgeting with her sword while Zuko sat across from her on his knees on the outside of the nest. Both of them accepted a cup of tea from Iroh, and Song Lee slid into a cross-legged sitting position, though it was obvious that she was still tensed up and shaking violently. Her other hand remained on her sword, where her knuckles were practically white because of how tightly she was gripping the hilt.

Song Lee starting rocking again, keeping her gaze on her tea even as Zuko said, "I'm sorry, but who was that? And how did _you_ know him, Uncle?"

Iroh glanced at Song Lee, who didn't look up. "After you left so as to travel on your own, Song Lee and I stopped in a town to get supplies."

"We were following you," said Song Lee. Her voice sounded rusty. "The town was a bad idea."

"Yes, you were right," said Iroh, his expression suddenly thoughtful. To Zuko, he added, "She didn't want to stop. Or, if we had to, she wanted to wait until we found a smaller village. While we were in the town, though, a boy recognized Song Lee. He introduced himself as Mio, and insisted that we stay for dinner."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "So of course you insisted that you stay, too."

"One should never reject a free meal, even when it doesn't end up tasting so good. Song Lee is traveling with us because of a free meal, you know."

"I would have found you whether or not you stopped at Nurse Song's house for roast duck," said Song Lee, who had stopped rocking, even if she hadn't looked up from her tea.

"Yes, of course you would have," said Iroh. "Anyway, we ate with Mio and his sisters... there were four sisters, right?"

"Ming, Ran, Sumire, and Ayame," said Song Lee. "They kept me distracted throughout the whole meal, and they ate my dinner and pulled my hair."

Zuko smiled at that, though he knew it wasn’t very funny.

"Mio and his sisters were born in the Fire Nation," said Song Lee, "but my aunt told me that they moved to one of the colonies. Mio told me that they were all traveling to Ba-Sing-Se, but I forgot until today."

"As it turned out, Mio recognized me, too," said Iroh.

"Oh, no."

"Indeed. He left to acquire the help of a squad of Earth Kingdom soldiers. For the record, I am tired of running into squads of Earth Kingdom soldiers!"

"The soldiers assumed I was harmless," said Song Lee. "I used my advantage."

"She did," said Iroh, his tone light and appreciative. "I would not have been able to fight them off alone. That was when I found out that she was the Black Wing."

Song Lee finally looked up, turning her gaze on Iroh. "It's a silly name," she said. 

Iroh smiled. "We cut through the Earth Kingdom soldiers together. We left Mio alive, though."

"Oh," said Zuko. He once again found himself wishing that he hadn't left them alone.

"Wait," said Iroh. "If he was alive, and he knew you were the Black Wing, why didn't he report you? Wouldn't that have been easier?"

"Princess Azula hasn't reported me, either, and she knows I'm the Black Wing."

"What?" asked Zuko and his Uncle in unison.

"When I went after Azula in the moment after she hit General Iroh with lightning, she knew who I was. She said she'd done her research. I am sure that she intercepted Tongyi, which is why you never received the eleventh letter, and why there were so many soldiers when she came to capture you. However, when we were fighting, she told me that she didn't think that I was a problem, because then she cut me with the poisoned blade. I guess she didn't tell anyone who I was since she thought that the poison would kill me, and she was almost right." 

Zuko flinched, though he wasn't entirely sure why.

"That's why it's the Black Wing that's wanted instead of the mad, orphaned daughter of the late Vice Admiral of the Navy of the Fire Nation."

"You're not mad," were the words that automatically left Zuko's mouth.

Song Lee bowed her head as she turned her gaze to him, not quite meeting his eyes. "I might be. People think I am. That's what matters."

"Arrogance," said Iroh before Zuko could protest again. "She was sure the poison would kill you. I wonder if it was arrogance that kept Mio from reporting you as well."

"Maybe," she said. "He said it was personal, and that he didn't want anyone to get me before he did. Since the Black Wing is wanted dead or a live, he was ready to kill me."

"That sounds like arrogance to me," said Zuko. "And you _aren't_ mad."

Song Lee didn't smile, but she relaxed slightly. Her grip on her sword eased, and her shaking stopped.

"Perhaps you should go somewhere," said Iroh, eyeing her sword. "Try to calm down. Would you like more tea?"

She held her cup out as Iroh refilled it, and Zuko wondered when she'd drunk it, as he hadn't seen her take a single sip. "I don't know where we would go," she said. "It'll be dark soon."

"We could go to the garden," said Zuko.

Her gaze snapped to his, and she actually did smile, at least a little bit. "Okay," she said. "But Ying said that a lot of the people who go there after dark are courting teenagers. We could be mistaken for those kinds of people."

Zuko found that he didn't mind that idea. "That's okay," he said. "It doesn't matter what they think."

"I'll stay here," said Iroh. "It's been a long day. Should I go and find you after a while in case you fall asleep again?"

Zuko blushed. "We'll be fine," he said.

Iroh laughed and took the empty cups back into the kitchen. Song Lee sheathed her sword. She was obviously still on edge, but she was calming down, and that was really all that mattered.

It was an hour to sunset by the time they left. Song Lee had changed into the green dress she disliked, but she said she didn't mind attempting to blend in to other people, at least for the evening. Zuko didn't bother changing. Song Lee didn't seem to care. Between his scar and her darker skin, he very much doubted they would do a tremendous job blending in, anyway.

She kept her sword with her, though. He doubted she would ever leave it at the apartment again. He wished Mio hadn't shown up at all. Song Lee wouldn't be able to fully relax for days, if that.

At least they would look at the stars while they were in the garden. If Zuko knew anything, it was that the stars would help Song Lee calm down, at least a little bit.

The sky had started changing colors by the time they made it to the black-metal gate. It wasn't that they were slow walkers, it was that Song Lee had insisted on taking a route that led to them doubling back at least five times and getting lost twice. Usually, it would have made Zuko irritated, but he knew Song Lee was scared and paranoid. He could understand that. In Ba-Sing-Se, that fear rarely left him. Despite the fact that he'd almost broken his cover for Jin, he was terrified that they'd be recognized. Up until Mio showed up, though, Song Lee hadn't had to worry about it like he had.

He wondered what was going through her head.

The gates were closed, but they were unlocked, and Song Lee assured him that the garden was never closed. She told him about the candle-lit map she'd gone to with Ying on that night she'd gotten lost and almost had a meltdown. 

Unlike the first time Zuko had been in the garden, he had time to slow down and take in his surroundings. He usually wasn't one to care at all about gardens, but this one had everything, and it didn't even seem too crowded. There were plants from all around the world—he could even recognize some plants that were indigenous to the Fire Nation.

It reminded him of home.

Zuko and Song Lee made their way through the garden. There were indeed other people, mostly couples their age or a little older, but they were ignored. Zuko gaped at the fountains and flowers; Song Lee once again showed him the map and how vast the city was. It seemed different in the nighttime. The whole garden was different in the nighttime. Song Lee noted that there were over three dozen types of trees in the garden. Zuko kept comparing the garden to those of the Fire Nation palace's. They seemed so simple in his memory compared to this one.

Finally, after Zuko had looped through the garden at least twice (he hadn't gotten close to exploring all of it, but he didn't care), he sat down next to Song Lee on a stretch of carefully manicured grass. Even in the rapidly dimming light, he could tell that her eyes were green again. They stood out all the more, he thought. Though the effect was strange, he liked the way they looked, maybe more than he liked her eyes when they were stormy grey.

Song Lee laid down. She hadn't taken her hand off of the hilt of her sword the whole evening, and she didn't as the grass tangled her hair. Her eyes were fixed on the sky. The sun had set, and though it would be a couple of minutes before the stars would come out, she was still ready to see them. 

Zuko laid down, too, in the opposite direction so that their heads were next to each other but their legs were facing away. He was glad he hadn't tried dressing up. The grass tickled his ears and the back of his neck, but it was soft enough. He wondered why they hadn't done this earlier. 

"Why did you stand up for me?" Song Lee asked suddenly.

He turned his head to face her. She was still looking at the sky. "When?"

"After Mio attacked me. You didn't have to help, but you did."

"Song Lee, he was going to _kill_ you."

"Okay. That doesn't answer the question. Are you avoiding answering?"

"No, I'm not avoiding answering," said Zuko. "You weren't able to fight back fairly, and he was going to kill you, so I stopped that from happening."

"What if he had killed you, too?"

Zuko smiled to himself and looked back up at the sky. "He wouldn't have," he said, knowing that he was probably being arrogant but not caring. "He couldn't even bend."

"So you stood up for me because you didn't want me to die?"

"Well, we've had that conversation before. I promise that I really don't want you dead."

"I didn't believe you the first time," she said, and he looked at her again. "I thought you might be making fun of me."

"What?"

"I believe you now."

He felt truly upset. "But why didn't you believe me before?" 

"At the time, I wanted me dead, too."

For a moment, he was silent. Zuko genuinely had no idea how to respond. How could she want herself dead? She was _amazing_ —even Zuko knew that. He looked back up at the sky, and then back at her, and then he sat up, suddenly furious. He was so used to being angry, but this felt like something else entirely.

"Why?" he asked.

She didn't sit up with him, but she did look at him. "Why what?"

"Why would you want yourself _dead?"_

"I'd just woken up from a weeks-long coma that you had to drag me through," she said, looking back at the sky. "You were mad at me for not telling you about what happened with Azula, and I thought you were also mad at me for being so difficult to lug around. I thought it would have been easier for you and General Iroh if I had died. I thought _you_ thought that, too."

"Of course I didn't think that,” he lied, doing his best to keep that too-familiar knot of guilt out of his stomach.

"I know that now," she said. "You stood up for me." She smiled a little bit. "There's the first star. You should lay down—it's harder to see the sky when you're sitting up."

Zuko still had more he wanted to say, but he exhaled and laid back down. It didn't seem like she wished herself dead now, but he didn't want to press it, just in case.

The two of them were quiet for a long time as the sky darkened and the stars appeared one by one. At first, Zuko wondered what she'd meant when she'd said the sky was beautiful from the garden at night—he thought it was pretty enough, but it was nothing special—and then the stars seemed to multiply, and an hour after they'd entered the garden the sky was heavy with stars.

Zuko stared up with bated breath, delighted that he'd thought this would be a good idea. Sometimes he wondered why Song Lee liked the stars so much, but as he took in the starry night sky, he understood completely. 

"There's the Hegu constellation," said Zuko suddenly, pointing. He felt proud that he knew that, even if it was the only constellation he could recognize. 

He glanced at Song Lee; she was smiling. "Yeah," she said. She pointed somewhere else, and Zuko followed her gaze. "Those nine stars there—that's the Neck. Kàng."

"The neck of what?"

"The Azure Dragon of the East."

"What about that one?"

"That's a star."

"Yeah, but is it a part of a constellation?"

"Sure, the Horn. Jiăo."

"Jiăo?"

"Yeah. And there's Wěi. Those stars there."

"The Tail?"

"Yes."

"Do you ever get tired of looking at the stars, Song Lee?"

She didn't tear her gaze from the stars. "I thought I would," she said. "My aunt thought so, too. But I never did. I don't think I ever will. There will always be something about the sky that I will not know about, no matter how many theories I come up with or, eventually, books I write and measuring instruments I help invent. And they're always so beautiful. Those stars there, that's Liǔ. The Willow."

Zuko stared at Song Lee for a while. She had such a simple mindset and curiosity about everything, especially including the stars. She obviously loved them more than anything, and he had never met anyone who knew more about anything. He was aware that he didn't know everything about her, but at that moment, he really just wondered how happy she was with the choices she had made. How happy she was with _him_. 

But he didn’t dare ask. 

Song Lee turned on her side, tearing her gaze away from the sky to look at him. The moon was almost full, so he could see her without a problem. Her eyes stood out more than ever, but she wasn’t making eye contact—she was looking at his hair, for some absurd reason. 

“I really like your hair like this,” she said. 

Her tone was as flat and timeless as ever, but her words caught him off guard. “What?” he asked. 

“I thought it looked silly when it was just a ponytail, though I understand why you left it like that. And when you were almost-bald, when I started traveling with you, you looked like a schoolboy.”

Zuko scowled at that.

”But,” Song Lee continued, “I like it now. When it’s short, but it sticks up in the front like that.” She pantomimed what she was talking about in the air. 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know. It looks a little like mine. Would you keep it short if I asked you?”

Zuko didn’t know how to reply. 

She hummed, and then she frowned and inhaled and said, “No, never mind. You probably want to grow it out as long as you can.”

He rolled over on his side, to face her better. “Why do you think that?”

”In case you want to go home. And you _can_ go home. Long hair’s a representation of honor, right?”

”Yes.”

”So keeping it short goes against being a proud citizen of the Fire Nation.”

She had a good point. Zuko was glad she’d mentioned that part, because he would almost definitely have kept his hair short if she asked. 

He considered that thought, wondering if his friendship with Song Lee was a bad thing. He didn’t think it was. She was from the Fire Nation, the daughter of the late Vice Admiral. She had no legal reason not to return home if she wanted to. If they did return, Zuko knew that he probably wouldn’t be able to spend so much time with her, but that wouldn’t be hard to work around. He wondered what a life at home would look like if he were to remain close with her.

“What else?” he found himself asking. He wasn’t used to Song Lee’s conversation style of brutal honesty. He didn’t talk with his father, and his sister always spoke in half-lies and manipulations, and his uncle always spoke in irritating metaphors. But Song Lee knew what she wanted to say, and she didn’t seem to care at all what anyone else thought of her. 

“What do you mean?” she asked, gaze still set in his hair. 

“Other than my hair.”

”Oh,” she said. She looked at his face and spread her fingers in the air. “I like your scar.”

The world seemed to pause.

”What?” he asked, sitting straight up and turning to face her. 

Song Lee copied his movement, though he stayed in his knees while she quickly transitioned into a crouch with hands up in front of her, as if to steady a dangerous animal— _him_. “I like your scar,” she repeated. “I know you don’t like it, but I wouldn’t recognize you without it.”

”Song Lee, my father burned my face for speaking against him.”

Her hand was no longer on her sword hilt, he noticed, though she had taken her hands from the air and was tangling and untangling her fingers unconsciously. “I know,” she said. “I know, but it balances your face, and it keeps your scowling from being too noticeable—“

”Too noticeable?”

”—and it draws attention to your unscarred eye, which is golden. The color of _gold_. And sunlight.”

Zuko opened his mouth to interrupt again, but then he closed it and just listened to her. 

“And you’ve gone through many terrifying ordeals,” she said. “The scar is a reminder of the first one. But you’ve come so far. You’ve survived much more. Your ship exploded while you were still on it, Zuko.”

"I got hurt from that, too, you know," he said, fully and uncomfortably aware of the way the hair on his arms stood up when she had said his name.

"Yeah, but if you have any scars from that, then they aren't as noticeable."

Zuko blinked and frowned, reaching up to touch his face. "So... you _like_ my scar?"

"Yeah," she said casually, as if she were complimenting his clothes. "Though I've never known you without it. Can you see out of that eye?"

"No."

"Oh. I didn't know that."

"It's okay. I'm just... I'm still surprised you _like_ it."

Song Lee nodded, and then she said, "I'm happy you're my friend."

Before he could reply, she laid back down and continued watching the stars. He was glad she wasn't looking at him anymore, because he was smiling like a fool.

He laid down next to her, happy that she was his friend, too. He had no idea what his life would look like without her in it, and he decided that he never wanted to find out.


	16. All Inside the Rain

**The Ninth Letter**

_A flash of red consumed his vision, and then his world became a nexus of pain. He was aware of screaming and falling, and for a moment that lasted for a single second but seemed to last a lifetime, he was reliving the failed Agni Kai._

_Then his body hit the water, and for a moment, his vision seemed to reset. Everything went white, and then it faded to black. The freezing water jump-started his system while he sank down, and his eyes opened, but he could see barely anything. He couldn't breathe. For a moment, that particular obstacle didn't matter around the pain—he was tempted to let himself drown._

_It was almost peaceful, sinking. All around him, the debris from the ship sank beyond where he was, and he watched as shock slowly began to overcome him._

_Above his head, a strange shape hovered over him. It never touched the water. It was simply there._

That way is up, _he told himself. But he exhaled out, watching the bubbles float up, up... and he couldn’t bring himself to care._

_He looked at the shape again, and then a single thought hit him all at once:_ I can't die here.

_All of his senses sharpened, despite the shock. His body was quickly succumbing to the cold, and he knew he wouldn't be able to swim if he didn't get rid of the armor that was pulling him down, faster than he had realized it was. It was difficult underwater, but he discarded as much of it as he could maneuver out of, and then he pushed as hard as he could to swim for the surface._

_It seemed so far away, but that shape was waiting for him._

_As soon as his head broke through the surface, he gasped, almost swallowing a mouthful of seawater in his attempt to regain his access to oxygen. After that, he coughed and cried out, because after the numbing distraction of almost drowning had been taken care of, his body was one again connected to his pain from the explosion, and it was beyond excruciating. He was tempted to allow himself to drown all over again, and though he could barely see anything as it was, he was almost completely rendered blind as tears blurred the world around him._

_A wave broke over his head, and he was sent whirling through the water. His sense of direction went haywire, and for a moment, he was completely lost._

_But then he located that hovering shape again, and swam up._

_As soon as he made it to the surface again, a screech exploded through the air, making him flinch. He looked up and was astounded to see Tongyi hovering above him. How the messenger falcon had found him among the debris and fire of the ruined battleship, he would never know. Tongyi also had a letter in his carrier, but Zuko didn't really care just then._

_"Tongyi," Zuko said, his voice choked and strangled and barely able to function. "I need to get to shore."_

_Tongyi didn't seem to understand, but he continued to hover, anyway. Every time Zuko's body gave out or his head went underwater, Tongyi screeched again and again until Zuko reappeared._

_It was extremely difficult to function, but through his shock, Zuko was able to locate what direction the shore was in. In his state of fatigue and pain, it seemed too far away to even consider making it to. He would never be able to swim so far._

_But Tongyi screeched again, and Zuko glanced at the falcon before he started swimming, anyway. As he pushed and pushed and pushed, a disjointed phrase sprang into his head, one he recognized but could not in the state he was in remember where it was from._

"...is not too far away from your current position..."

_Where had he read that?_

_He needed to make it. He_ would _make it. He would find Iroh, find a way onto Zhao's ship, find the Avatar himself. And he would finally respond to Song Lee. She had never been a distraction, and her falcon was in the process of saving his life by screeching in his ear whenever he got tired. It was the least he could do._

_"Nephew!" he heard from the docks, and it took all of his strength to glance up and see his Uncle standing on the docks and waving frantically._

_Zuko could not get his body to respond, but Tongyi screeched for him. He felt another bolt of appreciation for the falcon._

_It seemed to take hours to make it to his Uncle, even though he knew it probably wasn't nearly that long. When he finally made it, Iroh was there, helping Zuko up, holding him close despite the fact that he was soaking wet._

_"I thought you were dead," said Iroh as he embraced Zuko tightly. Iroh's body was shaking, or Zuko assumed so, at least. It was kind of hard to tell when the whole world seemed to be trembling. "I... I thought I had lost you."_

_"I'm right here," said Zuko. He was tempted to fall asleep right there, too, but he had too much work to do. "I have a plan."_

_"What plan?"_

_Tongyi landed on Zuko's shoulder, and he pulled away from Iroh._

_"It's more like the beginnings of a plan. I'll tell you after I read Song Lee's letter."_

_"I wonder what Song Lee would do in a situation such as this."_

_"Does it matter?" asked Zuko, and Iroh shrugged._

_Zuko used his firebending, which seemed considerably weaker than usual, to dry off his hands, and then he slid the letter out of the carrier as carefully as he could and unfurled it. It was about as messy and difficult to make out as usual—Song Lee's calligraphy was just like that—but the ocean water hadn't seemed to have damaged it through Tongyi's carrier. He was beyond relieved that this was the case._

**Prince Zuko,**

**Tongyi has once again returned without a letter. Either this means that you have been intercepted again, or that you have sent Tongyi back without a reply at all. I am going to assume it is the former.**

_Zuko pushed away the wave of guilt that threatened to drown him again._

**I see no indication on Tongyi that he was injured on either of the occasions he was intercepted. He is a competent fighter, especially when one compares him to another messenger falcon. I am very happy to have such a wonderful falcon, even if he did eat more cake then my father thought was healthy.**

**The news of the Avatar's return has reached even the naval base, though I told no one. It was strange to hear so many soldiers speak of the Avatar and his exploits. You appear in their stories sometimes, you know. I am beginning to believe that there are many adventures that you are not telling me about.** **Are you doing all right? What stories are you living through when you read this letter?**

**Something big is happening here. Many of the crews have departed, even those that are supposed to remain on a semi-permanent basis. The base is almost completely empty. They are all heading north at a brisk pace. Do you know what is happening?**

**I eagerly await your reply.**

**Song Lee**

_By the time he finished reading the letter, his eyelids were drooping._

_"I've got to reply to her," he told Iroh. "I need..."_

_"We need to camp for the night," said Iroh, his voice distant and gentle. "You need to sleep. I will get the supplies that you need to write while you rest, and we can go over your plan in the morning."_

_"Okay," said Zuko, his voice barely audible._

_Iroh helped him up again—he had sat down on the dock to read the letter—and they moved towards the cover of the trees._

* * *

After what had nearly been a full month in Ba Sing Se, Song Lee had finally gotten something new to read. This one wasn't a book, it was a scroll with gilded edges that caught the light of the tea shop. However, though the medium was new, the genre was the same. It wasn't much better than the book, actually, just blessedly shorter. She'd already memorized most of it.

More romance. More characters who fall in love. Wasn't there more to life than that? What about the stars? Actually, the stars were mentioned in the new story, but they were used as a silly metaphor _for_ love. As she read that scene again, she was tempted to throw the scroll out the window.

The tea shop was almost painfully constricting, as General Iroh's influence had made it one of the best tea shops in the city, which apparently brought in crowds no matter what part of the day it was. All the stories in the world couldn't help how claustrophobic she felt among so many people. She rarely got a table to herself anymore, which wasn't so terrible, as she just took her book and the new scroll and curled up in the back. Unfortunately, when she was in the back, she rarely got to see Zuko and General Iroh, so more often than not she found herself back among the crowds.

The day she got the scroll wasn't much different. Around midday, she gave up on reading and left the back in an attempt to help Zuko. Of course, he wouldn't let her help, even though she was no longer suffering from any effects of the poison, so she just followed him around like a vaguely irritating shadow, or a silly metaphor for love. No, she wasn't using that right.

"Stop," he told her as he balanced a precarious stack of dishes and tea cups on his way back to wash them.

"No, thanks," she replied, which was what her teacher had taught her to say instead of just 'no.' Supposedly, that made people a lot less angry than when you just said 'no.'

That didn't seem to work on Zuko. He just kept scowling. That familiarity, at least, was welcoming.

Song Lee stopped following him around, though, when she noticed a man and his bodyguard approach General Iroh. She watched, not moving to help yet. The man was dressed much differently when compared to the other customers in the tea shop. She wondered what that meant, and why he was speaking with General Iroh.

"Good tea is its own reward," he said in response to something that the other man had said, though Song Lee hadn't heard that part. General Iroh caught her gaze and said, "Song, come here."

She moved closer as the man said, "It doesn't have to be the only reward. How would you three like to have your own tea shop?"

Song Lee blinked, and then she frowned. _Why?_ she was prepared to ask. Didn't they have enough at Pao's tea shop? If they moved, how would she be able to see Ying again? What did Zuko think about everything?

Before she could say anything, though, General Iroh said, "My own tea shop? This is a dream come true."

With no warning at all, Pao appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. "What's going on here?" he asked, his harshly contrasting voice causing Song Lee to cringe. "Are you trying to poach my best tea maker?" Then he threw himself between the man and General Iroh, pushing her out of the way.

She briefly considered drawing her sword and pushing Pao right back, but then she decided that it would probably be an unwise decision. They were already attracting enough attention as it was.

"Sorry, Pao, that's business for you, am I right?" said the unfamiliar man.

"Mushi, if you stay, I will make you Assistant Manager," said Pao. His tone had changed. "Wait, Senior Assistant Manager."

"I'll provide you with a new apartment in the Upper Ring," said the unfamiliar man. "The tea shop is yours to do whatever you want. Complete creative freedom."

Song Lee didn't know if she wanted somuch change and freedom. She was about to tell General Iroh that when he said, "I even get to name the shop?" His tone had changed, too.

"Of course!" said the unfamiliar man.

"Uh, Senior _Executive_ Assistant Manager?" said Pao.

Song Lee watched as General Iroh placed the teapot he was holding in Pao's hands. General Iroh and the unfamiliar man bowed to each other, reminding Song Lee of her strange bow with Ying. 

"Did you hear, nephew?" asked General Iroh to Zuko as Zuko passed. "This man wants to give us our own tea shop in the Upper Ring of the city! Even Song will have something to do!"

"I will?" she asked. Too much was happening. She much preferred the constant fighting and traveling over this.

"That's right, you two," said the unfamiliar man. "Your life is about to change for the better."

Song Lee wanted to disagree with the man, but instead she watched Zuko and waited for his reaction. He walked towards the front door, setting aside a tray of cups on his way. "I'll try to contain my joy," he said, though his tone did not match his words and his scowl did not lift, and then he left the tea shop.

Song Lee followed him out immediately.

Zuko was leaning against the front of the tea shop. She said nothing and did nothing more than to sit down beside him. 

"Do you _want_ to move to the Upper Ring and help out?" he asked her. She did not recognize his tone. 

"No," she said. "I wouldn't mind helping, but I like it here. I don't want more change. We've come this far."

He made a noise that sounded like a cross between a cough and a hum and said nothing more. 

That's when the paper appeared in the air.

"What's that?" asked Song Lee, but Zuko had already grabbed it.

Song Lee stood as Zuko read it, and then he handed it to her as he turned his head, absurdly, to the sky.

It had a picture of the Avatar's sky bison. 

"Come on," he said before she had a chance to read the words. And then he was climbing up the roof of the tea shop as more papers identical to the one she was holding floated down from the air to the street. Where had they come from?

She followed him up, reminded suddenly of the village where Zuko had stolen the broadswords and became the Blue Spirit again towards the beginning of their journey. He was just standing there, looking over the twisted top of the city. Song Lee had been correct—it looked a lot different above the streets. What would it look like at night?

She turned her attention to the sky as she joined him. Nothing she could see was out of the norm; she saw no sky bison, no Avatar. But as she handed the paper back to Zuko, who looked at it once more, she said, "Things are going to change anyway, aren't they?"

He didn't reply, but he did look at her.

"Aren't they?" she asked again.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice different, quieter. "They are."

Zuko and Song Lee made their way back to the apartment they had been staying in. Zuko said nothing more, and Song Lee wondered what he was thinking. She thought back to the rooftop—the city was strange and mostly asymmetrical, at least in the Lower Ring, where they'd been staying. The streets were wide, the roofs curved or steeply slanted. Traversing the city over the rooftops wouldn't be impossible, but it would be difficult, and Song Lee decided that she would probably need to get used to it in the light of the day before risking shadows and unforeseen obstacles in the night.

Not that it mattered, if they were moving to the Upper Ring.

When they made it back, General Iroh was packing up a trunk. It made the reality of all the changes that much more real. "So, I was thinking about names for my new tea shop," General Iroh told them. Song Lee sat down next to him. "How about the Jasmine Dragon? It's dramatic, poetic, has a nice ring to it."

Song Lee didn't know about those things, but she said, "I like jasmine tea. And dragons are very nice. There are two dragon asterisms, did you know that?"

General Iroh shook his head, but before Song Lee could talk more about them, Zuko said, "The Avatar's here in Ba Sing Se." He handed the paper with the sky bison on it to his uncle. "And he's lost the bison."

"We have a chance for a new life here," said General Iroh after he took the paper and looked at it. Zuko moved away, going to look out the window. Song Lee watched him carefully, searching for a reaction. "If you start stirring up trouble," continued General Iroh, "we could _all_ lose the good things that are happening for us."

Zuko spun around to face General Iroh. He was angry. "Good things are happening for _you,"_ he said. "Have you ever thought that I want more from life than a nice apartment and a job serving tea?"

Song Lee thought about that. Actually, the life that Zuko was describing sounded almost perfect. The stars in the city were beautiful, and there might be more libraries available in the Upper Ring. She would be safe, and General Iroh and Zuko would be safe with her. What more _could_ he want?

General Iroh, apparently, agreed with her line of thinking. "There is nothing wrong with a life of peace and prosperity," he said. "Song Lee likes it here, too. She's just gotten better from an encounter with a disturbing result of what you consider to be _more_ from life. I suggest you think about what it is you want for your life, and why."

"I want my destiny," said Zuko, turning to look out the window again.

"What that means is up to you," General Iroh told him. Zuko walked away from the window, further into the apartment. To Song Lee, General Iroh said, "The Tea Weevil!"

Song Lee shook her head.

"No, you're right," he said. "That's stupid."

The night was dark, even under the light of a full moon, when the Blue Spirit snuck out of the apartment. It was almost humid, and he was reminded that spring was almost over and that it had been a full month since they'd arrived in the city. Time was moving much too fast for him to keep up with it.

While he was sneaking through the window, he was completely silent. Neither Song Lee nor Iroh woke up. He'd decided that it was time to do more than simply wait and try to enjoy his Uncle's so-called peace and prosperity.

Ba-Sing-Se was already a maze, but the top of it, the roofs and terraces and walls, was much more difficult to traverse. It was slow going, and he kept slipping, kept sliding down and almost falling. He'd finally found a straight stretch of roof to walk on when, from behind him, he heard, "What are you doing?"

The Blue Spirit spun around, his broadswords already drawn as he swung them to incapacitate whoever it was behind him, but they collided with a _crash_ against a very familiar longsword.

"Song Lee," he said.

"Well, technically, I'm the Black Wing right now, Mr. Blue Spirit," she said, using the weight of her sword to push his broadswords down. He took them back, and she sheathed her sword and readjusted her hood. How had she been able to find the time to paint the distinctive wing on her cheek? "But what are you doing? We should have canvassed the the top of the city by day first. It's too unpredictable and dark at night, even when the moon's full."

The Blue Spirit repressed a comfortable sigh as he studied her through his mask. Of course she'd worry about that rather than him sneaking around. "Keep your voice down," he said. "You'll attract too much attention."

She shook her head at him and moved closed, lowering her voice very slightly. "What are you doing?"

Zuko pushed his mask up so that she could see his face. "I'm tracking down the Avatar. I have a plan. If you want to come with me, you have to do exactly what I say."

He couldn't tell exactly, since her mask covered her mouth, but he thought she might be smiling. "I won't do anything. I'll stay out of the way unless you need me."

Zuko nodded at her, and then he lowered his mask again. He found that he was glad she was coming along, but he ignored the feeling. The two of them continued over the rooftops, only this time, the Blue Spirit was well aware of the Black Wing's quiet-but-still-slightly-too-loud footsteps behind him.

"Here," he whispered after what felt like forever. With the Black Wing's help, he was able to set up the trap, and while he got into position, she crouched on the roof in wait. She already knew exactly what she was supposed to do. The Blue Spirit slid from the roof and landed silently on the street. Ahead of him, a lone figure was walking—a Dai Li agent. Exactly what her was looking for.

He waited until he was absolutely sure that the coast was clear, and then he charged up the street behind the agent. "Out of my way, skinny," he said, knocking the agent down but still running, still silently hoping that the agent would take the bait.

The Blue Spirit was aware that, behind him, the agent had one of those hand-earth attacks ready, so he turned directly down a side street and jumped, his hand in the air, allowing the Black Wing to grab his hand and haul him up the roof just as the agent turned onto the street and saw the trap that the Blue Spirit had laid out with the Black Wing's help about half an hour before. The agent launched both attacks at the trap—a straw-filled dummy with a cheap tourist mask that looked like the Blue Spirit's, but the agent didn't know that—and the first attack took off the dummy's head.

"Huh?" said the Dai Li agent, obviously perplexed. 

The Blue Spirit squeezed the Black Wing's hand once and leapt down behind the agent, his swords around the man's throat. "If you don't want to end up like him," he said, "you'll do what I say."

"You can't go with me," Zuko told Song Lee, his mask on the roof next to him and his hood down, like hers.

Song Lee wasn't angry. She just frowned and asked, "Why?"

"You've only just gotten completely better," he said. "We're much less likely to get caught if there's only one of us."

Zuko and Song Lee were atop their own roof after returning from where the Blue Spirit had interrogated the Dai Li agent. He had only fallen off of one roof on the way back, which was four less than he'd fallen off of on the way there in the first place. A marked improvement. Sometimes she wondered how he hadn't gotten caught yet.

"We're both wanted by the Fire Nation _and_ the Earth Kingdom as the Blue Spirit and the Black Wing," she replied, "not to mention you're wanted in _every_ nation as the Fire Lord's son. Right now, we're two of the most feared criminals in the world. We could make it in and out easily, with either one or two of us. You'd probably be better off with me, even—I could watch your back. And I'm a better sword fighter than you."

"That's besides the point," he told her.

"No, it isn't. You just don't want to listen to me."

"Song Lee, I don't want you to get hurt again."

Song Lee paused and inspected Zuko's expression. She didn't recognize this one, even though it was clearly illuminated in the light of the full moon. "Whether I get hurt or not isn't the problem," she said at last. "You could get hurt, too, you know."

"Please," he said. "Help Uncle move into the new apartment. Get settled in. I'll be back before you know it."

"Even if you get hurt?"

He smiled at that, and his expression changed. "Especially if I get hurt. I'll need you and Uncle to patch me up, wouldn't I?"

"Yes. But I don't think you should get hurt, anyway. You could just leave the bison where it is."

His expression changed yet again, this time twisting into that familiar scowl. "This is my destiny. This may be the only chance I have that I haven't already blundered. Song Lee—"

"Okay. I'll stay. You just need to promise you won't get hurt."

He exhaled in an odd way, and then he nodded. "Of course. I would never try to get hurt. That's... I don't think that's ever really helpful."

Song Lee watched him for a moment, and then she rubbed away the wing on her cheek and left him alone on the roof by sliding into the apartment through the window.

She wondered what she would tell General Iroh if he asked her where Zuko had gone.

"Song Lee," she heard. She awoke just as someone grabbed her shoulder and shook her. In the span of a breath, she had the person's hand in her grip and their body pinned beneath her.

"It's me!" said General Iroh. "It's me! I'm sorry for waking you!"

She released him in an instant and returned to her nest of blankets, disoriented. "What?" she asked.

General Iroh sat up, shaking, watching her. "Where's my nephew?" he asked.

"Mm," she said, rubbing her eyes. She didn't remember ever sleeping this deeply—not counting the coma she'd entered. "I thought he was at Lake Laogai."

"Lake... what?"

Song Lee snapped to attention with a start. "Oh!" she said. "I mean..."

"We must go," he said. He was on his feet, already halfway to the door. "Quickly!"

Song Lee grabbed her sword and followed him, completely aware that she'd just screwed up. At least she wouldn't have to worry about lying.

The Blue Spirit slid the door open with the silent hope that the Dai Li agent hadn't been lying. The fortress under Lake Laogai was huge, and he was sure it was much larger than what he'd seen, and he'd almost gotten lost, but he was sure that this door was the one he needed.

The Avatar's bison stood in front of him, its legs bound in chains.

The sky bison looked at him and shifted uneasily with a groan. The Blue Spirit's shadow spread out over the floor, over the tangled and matted fur of the bison.

"Expecting someone else?" he asked it, smiling beneath his mask.

He closed the door behind him, making sure no one had seen him, and then he drew his swords. The bison shifted again, growling and stamping its feet as the Blue Spirit approached it.

"You're mine now," he said to it. He hadn't felt this kind of victory in so long. Capturing the Avatar's bison would put him back on the right path, and the right path was the path home. Iroh didn't seem to understand that. The Blue Spirit had wondered again and again how Iroh could be so content in exile and poverty when memories of home were so strong. 

It didn't matter then. He was victorious.

The door opened behind him.

The Blue Spirit turned at once and readied his swords to attack, but he lowered them when Iroh and Song Lee came in and closed the door behind them.

He wasn't entirely surprised to see Song Lee—he'd known she'd probably follow him anyway—but he was puzzled at the sight of Iroh. "Uncle?" he asked.

"So, the Blue Spirit," said Iroh. "I wonder who could be behind that mask?"

"I told you on the way here," said Song Lee. "Have you forgotten already?"

"No," he told her with a strained smile before turning his attention back to the Blue Spirit.

Zuko took off his mask. His anonymity was lost. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," replied Iroh. "What do you plan to do now that you have found the Avatar's bison? Keep it locked in our new apartment? Should I go put on a pot of tea for him?"

"First I have to get it out of here."

"AND THEN WHAT?" yelled Iroh, taking Zuko aback. Even Song Lee shied away from Iroh's side. "You never think these things through! This is exactly what happened when you captured the Avatar at the North Pole! You had him, and then you had nowhere to go!"

"I would have figured something out!" he yelled back.

"NO! If his friends hadn't found you, you would have frozen to death!"

"What?" asked Song Lee, speaking for the first time in a while. A glance let Zuko know that her eyes had widened, and she had stopped inspecting the sky bison and was staring straight at Zuko.

Neither Zuko nor Iroh answered her, and Zuko looked away. "I know my own destiny, Uncle," said Zuko.

"Is it your own destiny?" his Uncle replied. "Or is it a destiny someone else has tried to force on you?"

"Stop it, Uncle," said Zuko. He could not afford to think about the implications of his Uncle's words. It was _treason._ He couldn't afford to listen, not now, when victory was in his grasp. He turned towards the bison. "I have to do this."

"I'm _begging_ you, Prince Zuko!" said Iroh. "It's time for you to look inward, and begin asking yourself the big questions. Who are you? And what do _you_ want?"

Zuko released a cry and threw his swords and mask to the ground, wheeling back around, ready to strike his uncle. "And I suppose you know?" he yelled. "What _do_ you know?"

Before he could get closer, though, Song Lee was there, blocking him from moving forward, her hand light but firm against his chest. "Stop," she said quietly.

He looked up at her, really looked at her through a haze of anger. She looked afraid, but Zuko didn't try to figure out why. "And what do _you_ know about this?" he asked her, though the worst of his anger has diminished the moment her hand had touched him. "What do you think about all of this?"

"It doesn't matter what I think. You need to—"

"I don't need you to tell me what to do," he snapped. "Of course it matters what you think. You've never bothered to mask your opinion before. Why stop now?"

Song Lee took her hand back, and he noticed the way it strayed to the hilt of her sword. "I agree with General Iroh," she said evenly, her voice still bare of inflections and emotion and her eyes flat. "You need to calm down, Zuko. You need to _think."_ The last word came out in a snarl.

He backed away from her, turning away from his uncle and friend. His eyes fell to the chains holding the bison to the ground, and Song Lee's fingers ghosted over his back, and he knew what he needed to do.

"You did the right thing, Nephew," said General Iroh to Zuko.

Zuko had released the Avatar's magnificent sky bison. She wondered what the bison's name was, but she knew it didn't matter at the moment. They'd left the elaborate underwater structure, and then she watched as Zuko pulled out his Blue Spirit mask and inspected it.

She wondered what he was thinking.

"Leave it behind," said General Iroh. And Zuko listened. 

The three of them watched as the mask sank beneath the surface of the lake. Song Lee knew that Zuko would never don his Blue Spirit persona again, and she doubted she would ever become the Black Wing again, either. What would be the point?

"I'm going back," General Iroh told Song Lee, casting a glance to Zuko, who was still kneeling by the water. "Bring him home soon."

"Yes, sir," she replied, bowing.

General Iroh didn't bow back. Instead, he embraced her tightly. Song Lee didn't know how to position her arms around the stout man, so she didn't, instead choosing to lean into the hug. "Thank you for being honest with me about my nephew," he whispered. 

"Of course," she said, not bothering to whisper, but enjoying the hug nonetheless. Her father had never really embraced her, nor had her aunt or teacher. Why hadn't they? Hugging was nice. She didn't understand why people didn't hug each other all the time.

Uncle Iroh released her and walked away without another word, and Song Lee crouched next to Zuko, who was sitting on the ground, his legs crossed.

"Why are you still here?" he asked.

"Your uncle asked me to stay with you," she replied, skimming the surface of the water with a finger.

Zuko's gaze was fixed to her hand as she drew it over the water, she noticed, and he said, "No, I mean, why are you still here with us in Ba Sing Se? You could go home. There's nothing for you here, and you're still _welcome_ home."

"I guess," she said, not looking at him. She drew her hand out over the water. "But I am loyal to you, not to my home or the Fire Nation. I like it here, and I will stay until I am sure that you are safe and I am sure that I could bear parting with you."

"Bear parting with me?"

She looked at him then. He was watching her carefully. "You're my friend," she told him. "There are few people I know and trust as much as I do you. And I can't just choose to be loyal to something else—you're the most deserving of it."

Zuko looked out over the lake, and Song Lee sat down fully, no longer feeling the need to crouch and run at a moment's notice. Technically, she was a little taller than Zuko, but that didn’t stop him from leaning sideways and resting his head on her shoulder. She instinctively slouched so that he would be more comfortable.

She didn't really understand why he was doing that, or what she was supposed to do, or if he was okay, but she tried to relax and let him have a moment of peace. She didn't mind the weight of his head on her shoulder. It was almost comforting.

”That mask was my mother’s,” Zuko said softly.

Song Lee didn’t know how to reply. After a moment, though, she leaned her head on his.

The quiet stretched on, and Song Lee stared out over the lake. A lot had happened since she had sent Tongyi with the undelivered eleventh letter and tracked down Zuko and Iroh, but she found herself thankful for every moment she had lived through.

”You know, your shoulder’s really sharp,“ remarked Zuko, though he did not move away.

Song Lee smiled.

Song Lee and Zuko returned to the apartment they had been staying at after a while. Zuko was tired, Song Lee could tell. They made it all the way up the stairs, and Uncle Iroh opened the door for them with a smile. 

"You did the right thing, letting the Avatar's bison go free," Uncle Iroh told Zuko as he shut the door behind them.

"I don't feel right," Zuko replied.

Song Lee looked at him sharply as his eyes unfocused, and then she swiftly leapt forward to catch him as he collapsed, breaking the vase with the orange flowers, which was still there after a month, in the process. "Zuko!" she and Uncle Iroh said at the same time, panicked.

He didn't reply. 


	17. We Carry What We're Able

_The first thing that greeted Zuko as he found himself waking up was the nagging presence of pain. His entire body felt sore and fatigued, which was made worse by the various points of stinging over the surface of his skin. For a moment, he was completely paralyzed._

_Then, he remembered the explosion._

_He groaned as he came fully conscious, barely able to pry his eyes open. It was difficult to see; the only eye he_ could _actually see out of had swollen tremendously. He was greeted by the sight of his Uncle, who waited on the other side of a dying campfire._

_"Uncle," he said, hardly able to get even that word out. His throat was dry, and it felt like a thousand shards of glass had been forced down his throat while he slept. As he sat up, though, the world flashed, and he almost collapsed again. Every movement took a hundred times the effort they normally would have, and the ache seemed to penetrate his very bones, even though he knew that, miraculously, none of them had been broken in the explosion._

_Iroh was by his side in a moment, helping his nephew sit up the rest of the way and stay in that position. Before Zuko fully knew what was happened, a cup of tea was pressed into his hand. "This will help with the pain," Iroh said. "It will also assist in your recovery."_

_"Am I going to be fine?" asked Zuko as he took a sip of the tea, and then he made a face. The warmth of the tea itself was okay, and it did help soothe his torn-up throat, but it tasted like dirt and ashes and half-rotted leaves. "This is terrible."_

_"This tea is the strongest blend I can make to help with rejuvenation," said Iroh, glancing away. "It is... very difficult to make it taste pleasant. But you will be fine."_

_Zuko took another sip, and then his eyes caught on a shape in the branches trees surrounding the small clearing they had ended up camping in. It was Tongyi. He was asleep, actually, his head tucked under his wing, and his bright red coloring made him stand out against the green of the evergreen needles, even in the dim light of the early morning._

_"The letter," he said suddenly, as if the sight of the falcon had jump-started his barely functioning memory. He shifted, ignoring the stabbing pain that shot through his side. "Uncle—"_

_"I have writing supplies right here," said Iroh, the tone of his voice enough to cause Zuko to relax. "There was a market near the dock. I went while you were asleep."_

_Zuko didn't smile, but he didn't feel nearly as tense as he had mere seconds before. "Thanks."_

_Iroh helped Zuko get situated, a brush in hand and a rough ink stone by his side. Then he left him there alone, wandering off while speaking of a stroll through the forest. In the back of his mind, Zuko wondered if hid Uncle has slept at all._

**Song Lee,**

**My replies to you weren't confiscated, and Tongyi wasn't attacked or intercepted. I just didn't reply at all. I'm really, really sorry. In the cases of both the seventh and eighth letters, I was stressed and busy. That doesn't excuse my lack of a reply, though. Please forgive me.**

**Admiral Zhao (he's been promoted again) is planning an invasion of the Northern Water Tribe. Right now, that is where the Avatar is with his friends from the Southern Water Tribe. Zhao has already taken my crew, so I'm alone except for my Uncle right now. He probably sent word to your father's naval base, too.**

**After he took everyone, Zhao got the pirates I ran into a couple of weeks ago to blow up my ship while I was still on it.**

**I'm fine now, even though I'm still pretty hurt. My Uncle wasn't on the ship at the time, so he's fine, too. Right now, Admiral Zhao is my greatest competition in terms of capturing the Avatar. Luckily, I have a plan. Since Zhao thinks I'm dead, it should be a little easier to pull off, but it's still going to be difficult.**

_He paused there. He thought back to what he had heard while he'd had on the mask of the Blue Spirit. He remembered Zhao's exact words:_ "Hegu is... unable to take up a new post at the moment."

**How is your father?**

_He paused again, glancing at Tongyi and then staring back in the direction that the ship had been in before it had exploded. All of Song Lee's letters to him, with the exception of the one he was replying to, had been on that ship. He would never be able to read them again. That loss hit him a lot harder than he thought it would._

_It didn't matter, anyway. He had read them so many times he had them partially memorized._

**I don't personally know any inventors. There has to be someone who can help you in the Fire Nation capital, though. When I capture the Avatar and return home, I'll find someone you can work with and write to you about him. I'm really curious about what you'll be able to come up with. You could revolutionize the study of astronomy, you know. You're definitely smart enough for it.**

**Have you had any benders in your family? How do you know so much about bending modifiers in terms of celestial bodies?**

**It's important to note that I'll always be in some degree of danger. I'm the son of the Fire Lord. Right now, everyone is my enemy. I can handle myself, though. If I can survive an explosion, I'm sure I can survive a lot more.**

**I eagerly await your reply,**

**Zuko**

_"Tongyi," said Zuko quietly, and the bird shook himself as he began to wake up. While he waited for Tongyi to wake up fully, he read over the letter as the characters dried. He was satisfied with it, even though that knot was still present in his stomach at the thought of the letters he'd never replied to. He wondered what she would think of it._

_When he rolled up the letter and held it up, Tongyi flew over to him and landed on his shoulder. Zuko sucked in a harsh breath as his claws dug into his skin, but he made sure to be gentle as he slid the letter into Tongyi's carrier. After that, Tongyi was off._

_Zuko watched until Tongyi was completely out of sight, and then some more. The sky was showing signs of sunrise, but it was still almost completely black._

_"So," said Iroh from behind him, making him jump and then fight to calm his heartbeat again. "What is this plan of yours?"_

_"I'll tell you on the way," said Zuko, doing his best to stand up. Everything still hurt. "We need to hurry._

* * *

The day had stretched on and on, and Song Lee had scarcely left Zuko's side. Zuko looked terrible, which was something even she could see. His hair was always damp from his sweat, and his breathing was shallow and raspy, as if he'd inhaled too much smoke. His skin was hypersensitive, too; she'd tried repositioning him earlier, but his breathing had picked up and his whole body had tensed, so she'd avoided touching him, at least until he woke again.

Zuko wasn't getting any better, and nothing Song Lee could do would help him.

She had asked Iroh what was wrong, but he wasn't entirely sure. It couldn't have been a disease contracted from Lake Laogai, because Song Lee and Iroh had been with him and neither of them were sick. Iroh thought that something was wrong mentally, that Zuko was going through an internal crisis. Song Lee wasn't so sure. Iroh managed to get the nobleman who'd offered him his tea shop to give them a couple more days to move into the new apartment—a couple more days to find out what was wrong with Zuko and how they could possibly help. 

Whenever he suggested she go out and stretch, or do something other than remain with Zuko, she just pretended not to have heard him. Iroh never left his side, either. Zuko went in and out of consciousness, rarely able to get truly comfortable. He was running a high fever. Iroh stayed with them, mopping Zuko's brow with damp cloths and giving him water whenever he woke.

Song Lee sat straighter when Zuko woke up again. 

"You're burning up," Iroh told him. "You have an _intense_ fever." He pressed another cloth to Zuko's head. "This will help cool you down."

"So thirsty," said Zuko, his voice weak and hoarse.

He tried to sit up, but Song Lee placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back. "Stay down," she murmured.

"Here's some clean water to drink," said Iroh, dipping a ladle into the clean water bucket and offering it to Zuko. "Niece, help hold him up. Here—yes. Nephew, stay under the blankets and sweat this out."

Zuko drank every drop from the ladle, and then he reached forward and grabbed the clean water bucket and tipped it back, drinking deeply. Most of the water ran down his chest rather than his throat, and Song Lee recoiled, but he didn't seem to care.

She ducked when he threw the bucket away from him, and it hit a wall as he coughed.

"Down," she told him, and he listened.

She just wanted him to get better.

_The darkness of the room seemed to press in on the edge of his vision, but he didn't care. Pillars were there to hold it up, as if the darkness was the ceiling. He was sitting on the covered mat that served as his throne, headed by fire. Through the flames, soldiers spanned the floor in rows, all looking to him. They bowed._

_Two dragons circled the throne, one blue and one red. They were a sign, he was sure, of his divinity._

_"It's getting late," said the Blue Dragon. "Are you planning to retire soon, My Lord?"_

_He was a Lord. Of course he knew that. As soon as she said it, he became aware of his nobility, aware that his face was clear of any scar or blemish. For once, his mind was untroubled. "I'm not tired," he said, keeping his gaze on the soldiers._

_"Relax, Fire Lord Zuko," said the Blue Dragon. And so he was Fire Lord Zuko. The Fire Nation was his to command, his to lead to victory in the war. He had finally returned home, and the Blue Dragon's voice, which was louder as she drew closer to him, was a confirmation to everything he'd ever wanted. "Just let go, give into it. Shut your eyes for a while."_

_He almost did. He had finally returned, finally reclaimed his honor and his birthright. His eyes began to slide closed._

_"No, Fire Lord Zuko!" he heard a different voice roar, and he was startled from the trance he had almost fallen into. The Blue Dragon drew away as the Red Dragon from from the other side. "Do not listen to the Blue Dragon. You should get out of here right now. Before it's too late!"_

_"Sleep now, Fire Lord Zuko," hissed the Blue Dragon. Her voice was much more comforting than that of the Red Dragon, even though it was heavy with some sort of weight that the Red Dragon's urgency was missing._

_He responded to neither of them. From behind him, another dragon flew into view. Unlike the Red and Blue Dragons, this one wasn't coiled around the cover, dividing him. The new dragon flew in circles around all of them. It had a strange coloring, too; it appeared green, but in the reflection of the firelight, its scales glimmered a dark, uneven silver. It was silent. Fire Lord Zuko avoided its gaze, though he didn't know why he did so._

_The pillars gave way, and the ceiling of darkness fell to swallow the room. The soldiers fell into dust, and Fire Lord Zuko recoiled, alarmed. All three dragons had disappeared. He knew, then, that he should have listened to the Red Dragon. His eyes searched the darkness for something as panic and distress rose up in him, and his eyes caught on a glimmer of gold as the Blue Dragon appeared again, this time flying directly at him._

_"Sleep," she said, "just like MOTHER!"_

_The Blue Dragon swallowed him whole, and he entered a different darkness. This time, he wasn't alone._

_A woman was in front of him, and when he appeared, she dropped her hood and turned to face him. His stomach turned to ice when he recognized her terrified face. "Zuko, help me!" she said. With those words, he wasn't Fire Lord Zuko anymore. No, instead he was just a scared and helpless boy who missed his mother._

_He fell into his mother's eyes, and he found himself back on the throne. He gasped as that, too, swallowed him whole, and then he was falling._

_The Green Dragon fell with him._

_The boy did not scream, and the dragon did not speak. The two of them fell in perfect silence through the otherwise complete darkness. As they fell, the dragon twisted its body around his in a wide and protective spiral that the boy could easily escape if he wanted to._

_With nothing else to lose, the boy finally met its gaze. Its eyes were almost-black, closer to a deep blue or purple, but they were covered in white speckles, closely resembling stars. There were more stars in the dragon's eyes than he had ever seen in the sky. It was hard for him to tell, but he knew immediately when the dragon looked at him, too. He looked away, and was surprised to see that the darkness there were falling through was covered in stars, too. They were falling through the heavens._

_"You are changing," the Green Dragon finally whispered. Its voice echoed through the heavens and reverberated through his bones. "Listen to what your heart is telling you. You will be everything." Its voice was plain and empty and as smooth as glass._

_It was much more comforting than the other dragons's voices, and much more honest._

_Zuko was still falling, and the Green Dragon fell with him. She never left his side._

"You should know this is not a natural sickness," Iroh said to Zuko the next time he woke up. "But that shouldn't stop you from enjoying tea. Niece—"

He didn't need to say anything. Song Lee helped support his head while Iroh helped Zuko drink tea that he'd made for him. 

Song Lee had yet to leave Zuko's side. Actually, she really had to use the restroom. She was glad to see that he was awake, but she was still worried, still hesitant to leave in case an emergency occurred in the moment she was gone.

"What?" asked Zuko. His gaze flicked from Song Lee to Iroh but couldn't seem to focus on either one. "What's happening?" his voice was slurred and confused.

"Your critical decision, what you did beneath that lake... It was in such conflict with your image of yourself that you are now at war within your own mind and body."

Song Lee didn't understand what that had to do with Zuko's physical well-being, but she said nothing of it. Neither, apparently, did Zuko, because then he said, "What's that mean?" before dissolving into a fit of coughs that made Song Lee's stomach twist in on itself. She hated seeing him like this. Song Lee found herself desperate for him to get well again.

"You're going through a metamorphosis, my nephew," said Iroh. "It will not be a pleasant experience, but when you come out of it, you will be the beautiful prince you were always meant to be." He reached forward and dabbed Zuko's brow with a damp cloth. 

"He's already beautiful," remarked Song Lee, her eyes tracing the edges of Zuko's scar. His eyes were still unfocused, but at her words they moved in her general direction.

"He will be a beautiful prince on the inside as _well_ as the outside," Iroh amended.

"He couldn't be beautiful on the inside. He's made of a mess of blood and bones on the inside."

Iroh sighed but said nothing else. Zuko fell back asleep, and Song Lee forced herself to stand and go somewhere to pee.

_It was dark outside. The moon was visible through the window when Zuko woke up, and the air was still. He couldn't even hear crickets._

_He had been asleep for a long time. He carefully rose from where he had been laying, surprised that he couldn't feel any of the effects he'd felt when he'd woken up before. As he slowly climbed to his feet, he inspected the apartment with eyesight that felt a little too clear. His gaze caught on his Uncle and his friend._

_Iroh was sitting next to where he had been laying, asleep in a cross-legged position with his hands tucked into his sleeves. He seemed weary, and Zuko was happy that he was getting some sleep._

_On the other side of Zuko laid Song Lee, and what was really unusual was that she had fallen asleep stretched out on her side over the floor, facing where he had been laying, rather than curled up into a ball. The light from the moon fell directly onto her face, which was clear of shadow and blemish and appeared golden in the gilded light. For a moment, Zuko was paralyzed. He had never seen her expression so unguarded, never noticed how perfect the curve of her nose was. Her hair seemed to glimmer in the moonlight, and it obscured her eyebrows from view. She seemed almost content._

_He tore himself away, trying to push the images of the slant of her jaw and fanning lashes and thin lips out of his mind as he made his way towards the washroom._

_Zuko splashed water on his face, trying to rid it of the feeling of sweat. The water was cool, almost refreshing, and it woke him up further. Something felt like it was missing, so even though he hated doing so, he forced himself to look at his face in the mirror._

_He froze up, once again paralyzed, when he saw that his was the bald, blue-arrowed head of the Avatar._

With a shout, Zuko woke from his sleep, sitting straight up. His hands flew over the floor, leaving a friction burn, but he didn't care. His heart was racing, his mind turning over and over, and he brought a hand up to his eye—but his scar was still there.

He closed his eyes and breathed in. He wasn't the Avatar. He was just Zuko.

Suddenly, there were fingers on his skin that weren't his. He nearly jumped out of his skin in fright, but the fingers merely turned his face face towards Song Lee, who was sitting next to him. The fingers were hers. His hand dropped to her wrist, but he didn't push her away as she smoothed her gently calloused hands over his face, cradling his head in her grip. He took her pulse while he slowed his breathing. This wasn't a dream anymore, and Song Lee was right there with him. He had no reason to be scared.

"Zuko," she said, her voice plain and empty and smooth, but raspier than normal. He was reminded of that perfect image of her that his mind had manifested in the nightmare. Her skin wasn't so perfect in reality, as it was blemished by the permanent shadows under her eyes and around her jaw, as well as marred by the normal flaws of human skin. The moonlight still caught on her, though, and seemed to bend the light around her. He was all too aware of the perfect curve of her nose, and her lashes, which appeared dusty, framed her eyes, which had turned into pools of mercury in the moonlight.

"Song Lee," he managed to say through his choked-up throat.

Her hand slid up his face, and her thumb ran over the edge of the scar tissue. He went completely still. Her grip didn't hurt, but it made him desperate for more of it, more affection. He had never felt so touch-starved.

"It was a nightmare," she said. He closed his eyes. "You are awake now. The moon is waning, but it's in its gibbous phase right now—that means it's kind of shaped like one of your fingernails, so it looks almost full but it isn't really. It's nearly the middle of the night. Your Uncle is asleep. You are in the city of Ba-Sing-Se, which is the Earth Kingdom's capital city."

"How long have you been awake?" he asked. His heart rate had calmed, almost to match hers, though it still felt irregular. He wasn't able to focus on much more than her hands on his face. 

"What do you mean?"

"Have you gotten any sleep?"

She smiled. "Of course not."

"You need to sleep," he said, though he didn't push her hands away. "You look tired."

"I always look tired."

He had no argument for that.

"I don't mind staying up," she said. "I needed to make sure you were okay, and I didn't want to leave your side. Your Uncle needs more sleep than I do, so I promised that I wouldn't leave for more than a minute at a time. I guess I didn't actually have to promise, because I would have stayed no matter what. I don't think you're very sick anymore. Do you still have a fever?"

"Um."

She pushed one her hands up and pressed it over his forehead. He opened his eyes. "No, I don't think so," she said, taking that hand away from his face and using it to grab his own free hand. Her other fingers remained on his face, and she didn't seem to mind his grip on her wrist. "You need to sleep, too."

"But you said you didn't think I was sick anymore," he said, even though he suddenly felt very tired. 

"Come on, lay down," she said. Her voice was still flat and slightly too loud, but he was able to relax in the familiarity of it, in the way she pronounced every syllable. He listened to her. She didn't release his hand, but as he dropped his hand from her other wrist, she moved her hand up to push some of his hair away from his face. He had never felt so relaxed before, and he closed his eyes as she helped him lay back down. He actually felt very tired. If Song Lee kept touching his hair like that, he knew he would easily fall back asleep.

Her hand disappeared, but Zuko didn't try opening his eyes again. She kept a tight hold on his hand, which was more than enough. Her voice dropped to a still-loud whisper as she continued to tell him little facts about the city, about the new tea shop, about the apartment, and, of course, about the night sky. He fell asleep to the push and pull of her voice, completely relaxed with the knowledge that he was absolutely safe with her next to him.


	18. Among the Sewer Rats and Angels

**The Tenth Letter**

_Nothing in that moment that was more visible than the moon. As Zuko stared at it, his thoughts turned back to the way the sky had looked when it died. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Song Lee had noticed its disappearance._

_After a long moment, he finally tore his gaze away from the moon and glanced back at the Northern Water Tribe. The wind blew through his hair as the great gate slid out of view in the presence of the late night fog._

_"I'm surprised, Prince Zuko," said Iroh. "Surprised that you are not at this moment trying to capture the Avatar."_

_The Avatar, Zuko knew, was untouchable. He didn't know how he had ever thought he could capture him. He remembered the way that the Avatar and the Ocean Spirit had destroyed everything. The way that Admiral Zhao had disappeared beneath the surface of the water. The way that the mighty wreckage of the Fire Nation fleet, twisted and dangerous, attempted to stop them from escaping the carnage._

_He wasn't going to say any of that to his Uncle, of course. Admiral Zhao was dead because he hadn't accepted Zuko's help. Besides, the thought of facing the Avatar yet again was too much to bear at that moment._

_"I'm tired," he simply replied. That part wasn't a lie._

_He felt Iroh rest a hand on his shoulder. It didn't hurt as much as it had when Zuko had first woken up the morning after the explosion, but he was still sore. "Then you should rest," said Iroh. "A young man needs his rest."_

_If it hadn't been for the Avatar, Zuko knew, he would be dead._

_Before he could lay down, a messenger falcon descended from the sky with a loud screech. Iroh extended his arm to receive it, and Zuko frowned when he recognized Tongyi's distinctive features. It had been less than a week since he had sent Tongyi off with the reply for the ninth letter. It took well over a week, he knew, for a messenger falcon to make a round trip between the North and South Pole. Well, he'd thought that was the case, anyway. Maybe he was wrong._

_"You must be tired, too," said Zuko._

_"Should I send him back?" asked Iroh._

_Zuko sighed. "No. I can reply once we make it to land and get supplies. I ignored too many of her letters already. Besides, we can just keep him with us until then. He needs rest, too."_

_"I still have the brush and ink stone with me. You will only need paper."_

_Zuko nodded, a wave of exhaustion once again crashing through him. He lied down on the raft, watching his Uncle as he moved Tongyi from his arm to his shoulder, and then he turned on his side and unfurled the letter._

**Prince Zuko,**

**I am pleased that you survived the explosion, though I was worried. You must be careful. Human beings are fragile beyond belief, and I would not be pleased to receive news of your death that I knew to be real.**

**I am also pleased to learn that your letters were never intercepted, though I confess I was unhappy to learn that you never replied to them. Nevertheless, your most recent letter has reached me safely.**

**I imagine that by the time this letter reaches you, everything will have already happened. Do you have the Avatar? What all happened in the process? Did you manage to surprise Admiral Zhao? How did the fleet fare?**

**I have three benders in all in my family, if you count my parents's parents and siblings. The woman who bore my father was a waterbender, though his father and stepmother were not benders at all.**

_Zuko blinked rapidly, suddenly more awake than he had been before. He read the word_ waterbender _again. Song Lee's grandmother had been a waterbender. She wasn't completely Fire Nation, then. Neither was her father._

_It was difficult information to process, but he had no idea what to do with it. He kept reading._

**My mother's father and my mother's sister were both firebenders. Neither of my parents are benders at all, however, and I am not one either. I learned of the modifiers for the various bending abilities from astronomical scrolls. I am not the only one through the ages to have astronomical theories.**

**I should let you know that being in danger all of the time is not a good thing. There are worse things that could happen than a ship blowing up. You need to be careful. I know that you are resilient and resourceful, though, so I think that you will go on for a long time. If the Avatar is not within your grasp, he will be soon. I wish you luck.**

**I eagerly await your reply.**

**Song Lee**

_Zuko smoothed out his letter before tucking it into a pocket. With Song Lee's words in his head, he was able to ignore the knot of anguish in his stomach that had been caused by the siege of the Fire Nation, and he fell into a dreamless sleep._

* * *

When Zuko woke up, he was greeted first with the smell of something delicious, and second with the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling. He sighed to himself and rolled over, sitting up and stretching his arms. He couldn't remember ever sleeping so well. Instead of a make-shift cot, he was laying in an actual bed, with soft covers that actually kept him warm. He was reluctant to leave them, but he was hungry, and wherever that smell was coming from was where he wanted to be.

He only vaguely remembered moving in the first place. He had been half-asleep when Song Lee and Iroh had loaded him and their few belongings onto a stone train, and then into a carriage, and then into the new apartment, which was really more like a house. Song Lee had been the one to support him through Ba-Sing-Se, he remembered that much, and she must have remained by his side until he'd fully fallen asleep again. He had yet to find her blanket-nest.

As Zuko took in the sight of his new room—a whole room that he got to himself—he found himself free of turmoil. It was a strange feeling, and it was almost as if he'd been suffering so deeply for all those years for nothing.

He didn't miss the stomach-in-knots sensation, he found. 

Zuko kicked the blankets off of himself and got dressed. By that point, he'd gotten used to wearing Earth Kingdom clothing, though he knew he couldn't quite say the same thing for Song Lee, who had yet to change out of her all-black clothes for more than a couple of hours at a time. He didn't blame her. The texture of some of the Earth Kingdom fabric was much different than he was sure she was used to.

The new apartment had much more natural light, which meant that there were a lot more windows that Song Lee would be sure to sneak out of at some point. He was still groggy as he made his way out of his room, but the new apartment was very intriguing now that he could really see it. When he entered the kitchen, he immediately took in the sight of Song Lee, who was sitting at the table there and reading, and Iroh, who was muttering to himself as he stirred something on the stove.

"What's that smell?" Zuko asked. Song Lee immediately looked up, and upon catching his gaze, she smiled.

"It's jook," he heard his Uncle say. His voice was cast in doubt. "I'm sure you wouldn't like it. Song Lee certainly doesn't."

Zuko wasn't really paying attention to Iroh. Song Lee's smile was weary and seemed more relieved than anything, and the shadows under her eyes were painfully obvious, but he had never been so happy just to see her smile at him like that. "I wanted butter noodles," she told him.

"You can't have butter noodles for breakfast," said Iroh.

"Ridiculous. There's never a time you can't have butter noodles."

"You like butter noodles?" asked Zuko.

Iroh scoffed, and Song Lee's smile was renewed. "They're my favorite," she said. 

Zuko tore himself away and made his way closer to his Uncle, leaning over the pot and inhaling deeply. Sure enough, that was where the good smell was coming from. "Actually, it smells delicious," he said, picking up a bowl from beside it. "I'd love a bowl, Uncle."

Iroh complied, albeit reluctantly. "Now that your fever is gone, you seem different somehow."

"It's a new day," said Zuko. "We've got a new apartment, new furniture—"

"New texts," said Song Lee, holding her scroll up. He didn't even recognize it.

"New texts," he amended with a smile. "And today's the grand opening of your new tea shop, Uncle. Things are looking up."

He sat down next to Song Lee with his bowl of jook, briefly reaching out and squeezing her hand in a silent gesture of thanks before releasing it again and turning to look out the window.

Things were going to get better.

"This is the most impressive tea shop I've ever seen," said Song Lee, studying the layout of the Jasmine Dragon. 'Impressive' was an understatement. It was extravagant while not coming off as needlessly flamboyant, and it was laid out in such a way that it could be busy but not crowded. It was also much larger than Pao's tea shop, which she was thankful for. 

She'd changed into her green dress before they'd left, and the silk felt strange against her skin. She decided that she should probably wear her pants underneath it in the future. Song Lee kept smoothing it down, messing with her sleeves, readjusting the collar. She wasn't able to stop.

"Who thought when we came to this city as refugees," said Uncle Iroh, "that I'd end up owning my own tea shop."

"Not me," said Song Lee. 

"Follow your passion, Song Lee and Zuko, and life will reward you." Song Lee had never seen Iroh smile like that. She was half-afraid that his face would split in two.

"Congratulations, Uncle," said Zuko. Song Lee looked at him over the top of Uncle Iroh's head. He was smiling, too, more freely than she had ever seen. It was unfamiliar, but it was still easy for her to recognize his joy. It really nice to see, actually, after everything he had gone through.

"I'm very thankful," said Uncle Iroh.

"You deserve it. The Jasmine Dragon will be the best tea shop in the city."

"Undoubtedly," said Song Lee, looking back at the layout.

"No, I'm thankful because you decided to share this special day," said Uncle Iroh to his nephew. He placed a hand on his shoulder. "It means more than you know."

Zuko brushed his uncle's hand away and turned to embrace him. Song Lee watched the exchange and let herself smile. Her jaw kind of hurt, actually. That was what it was like to have a reason to smile all the time. This particular ache was welcome, though.

Zuko opened his eyes and stretched out a hand to her. Unsure what to do, she took it, and he pulled her into the embrace, too. Usually, such close contact would make her freak out, but she trusted few people more than she trusted Zuko and Uncle Iroh, so she hugged them. 

She couldn't remember ever feeling so peaceful.

The hug fell apart, and the three of them looked back over the tea shop. "Now," said Zuko, "let's make these people some tea."

"Yes!" said Uncle Iroh. "Let's make some tea!"

"Me, too?" asked Song Lee.

"Even you, Niece. Don't worry, I'll show you what to do. No more spark rocks hidden in flower pots or broken tea cups."

Song Lee smiled again, and for a moment, she met Zuko's gaze. He seemed so unguarded, and when she looked at him, he blinked rapidly before she turned to follow Uncle Iroh inside. 

She wondered how anyone could want for anything more.

It was a little difficult to get used to working in the new tea shop, but Zuko managed it pretty well. Their biggest challenge was figuring out what to do with Song Lee. They quickly found out that she was a terrible waitress, as she was prone to tripping over the hem of her dress whenever she was distracted (which was a lot) and never held back on her opinion of certain guests. 

Thankfully, Iroh figured out a way to utilize her freakishly accurate memory and math skills. She was able to measure up costs in her head much more quickly than anyone else while still keeping the exact number and organization of tea orders in mind and relaying it to Iroh as needed. When she wasn't doing that, though, she was helping brew the actual tea, which it turned out she wasn't terrible at after the first couple of ruined batches. The system they'd come up with by mid-day was brutally efficient, and she didn't even have to talk to any guests, an occurrence that all three were relieved to avoid.

Best of all, Zuko decided, was that Song Lee seemed to enjoy her role in the tea shop. He'd been worried that she'd get bored or overwhelmed, but there didn't seem to be much of a chance of either of those things happening. He enjoyed working, too. No one seemed to care about his scar, and unlike Song Lee, he got along with the majority of the guests. Honestly, he had never been so perfectly content. His Uncle had been right.

"Uncle," he called, "I need two jasmine, one green, and one lychee!"

"Three silver pieces," Song Lee called back. 

"I'm brewing as fast as I can," he heard Iroh say. "Niece, get the jasmines?"

"Yes, Uncle," she said, though her voice had suddenly turned vacant.

Zuko looked at her, and then he followed her gaze to the open doorway. It was empty. He moved towards her and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," she said, turning back to the teapots. "I saw someone."

"Someone you recognized?"

"Yes."

For the first time that day, his stomach clenched up. "Mio?"

Her gaze snapped to meet his. "No," she said, though her hand had immediately strayed to the hilt of her sword. "No one. Just a girl I met briefly outside of Ba-Sing-Se. I've never even talked to her."

"When?"

"Before I got sick."

Zuko nodded, relaxing when she took her hand away from her sword. "What are the orders?"

"Two jasmine, one green, one lychee, and I'm brewing the jasmine. How anyone can stand anything except for jasmine is beyond me. It's called the _Jasmine_ Dragon."

He shook his head at her, but he couldn't keep his grin off of his face as he returned to work.

The day blurred past faster than he thought possible. Song Lee's system had saved a lot of time and kept Iroh organized, and every guest who had left the tea shop had gone with a smile on their face. Zuko had actually had fun working for his Uncle, and he found himself eager for the next day's opening, even though he was also looking forward to a good night's rest.

After the tea shop closed, Zuko swept the floors while Iroh and Song Lee worked together to clear and wipe down the tables. "Good work, you too," said Iroh. "Opening day was better than I ever imagined."

"Me, too," said Song Lee.

Zuko was about to reply but nearly jumped out of his skin when a man appeared on the steps from nowhere. "A message from the royal palace," he said before Zuko could tell him that they were closed. He walked towards Iroh and handed him a scroll neatly tied with string.

Iroh opened it, his eyes worried at first, but they widened the more he read. "I... I can't believe it!" 

Zuko moved closer. "What is it, Uncle?" he asked, his grip on the broom tight. Song Lee stayed where she was, but her gaze was glued to Iroh and her posture was ramrod-straight.

"Great news!" he said, and both teenagers relaxed. "We've been invited to serve tea to the Earth King!"

"The Earth King!" repeated Song Lee, her eyes wide.

"First thing tomorrow!" said Iroh, and then he ran towards the back of the tea shop. 

Zuko couldn't care less about the king of the Earth Kingdom, but it was obvious that this was good news for the tea shop. He smiled after his uncle, and then he returned to sweeping. Song Lee took the last dishes to the kitchen, miraculously not breaking anything, and then she returned to Zuko's side. 

"What do you think the Earth King's like?" she asked.

"I don't know," he replied without looking up. "I guess we'll find out tomorrow."

"What if I offend him somehow?"

He hadn't thought of that. "Um, I don't know. What if you didn't talk unless someone talks to you first?"

"But that's boring."

"So think about what the stars might look like from the top of the Earth King's palace." He swept the last of the dust from the stairs and put the broom aside before looking at her.

She smiled at that, glancing up at the sky. The stars were visible from the tea shop. "That's a good idea."

"Thanks," he said, smiling at her even though she wasn't looking at him. Her hair had grown a little—it was straighter, as long as it didn't get wet, thought it was still messy. It looked nice.

Song Lee looked at him, and the green of her eyes seemed beyond beautiful, and for a moment Zuko forgot how to breathe. But then she stepped forward and reached up and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into the space between his shoulder and his chest.

He held still for a moment, surprised at the suddenness of it, but then he hugged her back, turning his head so that his cheek pressed against her hair. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," he heard her say. Her voice was quieter, though it still bore no inflection. "My teacher's assistant told me once that hugs make people happy."

He smiled. "I'm already happy," he said. 

She pulled away so she could look at him, though neither let go of the other. "You could get happier," she said. 

"Doubtful," he said, still smiling. He closed his eyes and sighed.

No matter what came next, he knew he could handle it. With Song Lee and Iroh, he could get through _anything._ And this new life, this peace and prosperity, it was everything, because he had them.


	19. And All of Us In Between

_Three weeks of no food and no water on the raft had definitely done things to Zuko's mind. He had them drafting out his reply to Song Lee in his head. With every day that passed, he lost a little hope that he would ever see land again._

_When they finally did make it, the first thing Zuko did (besides for drinking as much water as his system could hold) was track down parchment on which he could write a reply to Song Lee. He brought it back to the hut that he and Iroh were staying in, where Iroh returned to him the brush and ink stone before wandering off again, probably to get another massage._

_He didn't understand why his Uncle liked massages so much._

_Outside the window of the hut, the trees were beginning to bear flowers. Not all of them had bloomed yet, but the perfume of the ones that had drifted through the window and allowed Zuko to relax, at least a little bit._

**Song Lee,**

**I'll definitely be more careful in the future if I find myself alone on a battleship, but that won't be happening anytime soon. If it's any consolation, I wouldn't be happy to hear news about my death, either.**

**Again, I'm really sorry for not replying to those two letters. What I could have done instead of sending Tongyi back without a reply is keep him with me and let him rest before I replied, but for some reason I didn't do that. I really do promise to reply to any future letters, no matter what.**

**Everything has already happened. My Uncle and I are stranded in a Fire Nation colony in the Earth Kingdom. I don't know what it's called, but it's kind of cool, because it's built on top of a waterfall overlooking a harbor. We did not succeed in capturing the Avatar. With the aid of the Spirit of the Ocean (at least, that's what my Uncle called it), the Avatar demolished an entire Fire Nation fleet and killed Admiral Zhao.**

**Uncle and I only escaped on a raft. We'd been floating for three weeks before we finally made it to the village. I don't know how we even made it that long. The wreckage of the fleet was legendary. I don't know how I ever thought I could defeat the Avatar.**

**Why is your grandmother a waterbender? How did she have your father and not raise him? If your grandfather was a Fire Nation citizen, why did he conceive a child with a waterbender? The Fire Nation has yet to capture the Water Tribes, so how did he even get so close with a waterbender in the first place?**

**How is your father?** _he asked again, because he'd noticed that she hadn't given an actual reply in the tenth letter._

**You'll be pleased to know that I'm not in any danger at all right now. It doesn't seem like we're going to be leaving this village anytime soon. Right now, even attempting to follow the Avatar is a dead end. I can't go home. I can't find allies. I can't do anything, it seems like. It doesn't really matter, though. I'm safe for now, so you don't need to worry for my sake. I'll be fine, and my Uncle will, too.**

**The Avatar will remain out of my grasp for the time being. I'm sorry for disappointing you. I don't believe I'm as resourceful as you think I am, but thanks, anyway.**

**I eagerly await your reply,**

**Zuko**

_Tongyi flew down write as Zuko wrote his name at the bottom of the letter and perched on the windowsill, blocking Zuko's view of the trees. He didn't mind. The colour of Tongyi's feathers seemed muted when compared to the pink flowers. "You've got a long way to go, don't you?" asked Zuko._

_The falcon gave no reply._

_As soon as the ink dried, Zuko rolled the letter up and sealed it, placing it in Tongyi's carrier with particular care. Tongyi butted his head against Zuko's unscathed cheek, rubbing his feathers over his skin, before he turned away, spread his wings, and took off._

_The scarred prince of the Fire Nation stood alone at the window as he watched the scarred messenger falcon fly away, his fingers resting against his cheek._

* * *

When Zuko woke up, he was greeted first with the smell of something burning, and second with the sight of a slightly more familiar ceiling.

He was up in seconds, his covers on the floor, and that's when he heard his Uncle's voice, which was loud and abrasive: "You couldn't wait until I woke up?"

Zuko relaxed, and he heard Song Lee reply, though he didn't exactly hear what was said. What in the world could she have done to earn Iroh's wrath?

He pulled on an easy set of robes and stumbled out of his room.

"We might have to get a new pot," Iroh was saying as Zuko hurried to straighten his sleeves and process the situation at the same time. "You shouldn't make butter noodles in the morning! Especially without my help." He was bent over the stove, beard wet with steam. Zuko couldn't make out the rest of his face.

"There's never a time you shouldn't make butter noodles," said Song Lee, who was beside Iroh, leaning against the expanse of wall between the counter and the table. "They're the best kind of food." She was holding a bowl, and her own hair was wet. He could tell because it was curled and stuck to her forehead.

"No, they aren't," said Iroh.

"Yeah they are."

"No," he began, but then he shook his head and gave up.

"What happened?" asked Zuko, and Iroh jumped.

"Song Lee almost burned down the building trying to make butter noodles."

"I didn't _try_ to make butter noodles, I _did_ make butter noodles," she replied, catching his eyes and holding up her bowl.

He had no idea how to respond to any part of the situation.

Zuko watched as Song Lee lowered the bowl and took a bite of what was inside. Zuko smiled, and then he turned to Iroh. "Let me help, Uncle," he said, taking the pot and bending over it himself. The bottom did have scorched noodles stuck to it, but he didn't think it was that bad. 

"Thank you. And _you_ should sit down at the table before you drop the bowl you're holding and break another dish," said Iroh, stepping away from Zuko as he rolled up his sleeves and focused on getting the noodles out of the bottom of the pot.

He glanced up just in time to see Song Lee scowl. "You can't tell me what to do."

By the time Zuko had finished cleaning out the pot, Song Lee’s bowl was laying at the bottom of the refuse pile in shards.

It took half an hour to leave after that, and with some convincing from Zuko, Iroh had finally forced Song Lee to sit still long enough for him to at least brush her hair. It was too short to do much of anything else, much to Iroh's disgruntlement and Song Lee's glee. While Song Lee changed into her green dress, Iroh took care of his and Zuko's hair, and then the three of them had helped each other pack an ornate white box with the supplies needed for tea before finally hurrying out of the house and into the waiting carriage.

Though they lived pretty close to the palace, they were a lot earlier than they needed to be, so the carriage moved at a slow, steady pace through the Upper Ring. Song Lee was practically glued to the window, shielding her eyes from the sun that was just rising over the the great wall. She was studying the various roofs and buildings that they passed. All at once, Zuko noticed how different she was from when he'd first met her.

He wondered how he'd ever thought she was a boy. Sure, it had thrown him at first, but Song Lee had proven to be resourceful in her femininity, utilizing it to her advantage. He had never even suspected that she was the Black Wing until she revealed herself to him. His thoughts wandered back to the day they had met.

He remembered the awkward way her darkly shaded dress had fit her sharply-angled limbs, how it made her seem even skinnier than she was. He remembered the way the moonlight had shone against her glossy black hair, which had been tightly coiled in a braid at the base of her skull. He remembered the night she showed him her telescope, the storm-gray quality of her eyes, the smooth bronze shade of her skin and her detachment from the world.

Now, of course, everything was different. It was like comparing a shadow to a person. Her dress still didn't fit her angles quite right, but it was cut much differently and seemed to fit her a little better, and the white and green coloring made her seem softer, more real and present. Her hair was much shorter, much messier, and never glossy, but it still shone in the morning light. After months of traveling with him and his Uncle, her skin was darker, as were the shadows under her eyes, but he had seen how she managed to smile a lot more. He remembered the night they had spent in the garden, the jade-green color of her eyes, and the amazing moments he had spent with her spread out over the grass. She never seemed so detached anymore.

In both cases, she was beautiful. And he loved her more than anything.

Song Lee finally looked away from the window, and Zuko tore his gaze away before she could catch him staring at her. 

"You know," said Iroh, shattering Zuko's train of thought, "Zuko and I are technically royalty."

"What?" asked Song Lee and Zuko at the same time.

Iroh had the white box next to him with Zuko and Song Lee sitting across from him. Iroh motioned to Song Lee's hair. "One of the only reasons we got you to sit still was by reminding you that we were going to visit royalty," he said. "If Zuko and I are royalty, why don't you always let me brush your hair, since you're always with us?"

"That's different," she said.

"How?" asked Zuko, who didn't actually care but was also curious and wanted to hear her talk.

"I don't care what you think of me."

"But... you care what the Earth King thinks of you?"

"No."

"What?"

"I care what the Earth King thinks of _you_ ," she said. "He wouldn't think good things if your niece and _your_ cousin was a scrawny girl that looks more like an escaped criminal than a tea server."

Zuko didn't have a reply, and neither, apparently, did Iroh. 

"Besides," she said, "you are my friends. It is hard to think of you as royalty."

"That's true," said Zuko.

"And you're not exactly royalty anymore, are you?"

The carriage went quiet. Iroh looked at Zuko, who stared determinedly at Song Lee, who was glancing between the two of them as the silence grew.

Finally, though, Zuko let himself smile. "You're right," he said, deciding in that moment that he didn't need to _care_ about his past anymore. "We're not royalty anymore. We've got a fresh start here."

"So I don't need to brush my hair," she said.

"Of course not," said Zuko at the same time Iroh said, "You should still brush your hair."

"I will never brush my hair again," she said, though she was smiling again.

Iroh looked horrified.

They arrived at the palace soon after. Zuko got out first, and then he held onto the white box while Iroh climbed out before handing it back. He watched as Song Lee jumped from the carriage with the grace and barely-contained glee of a child.

Zuko, Iroh, and Song Lee stood in a row before the palace, just staring up at it. It was much different from the Fire Nation and Northern Water Tribe palaces, Zuko thought. It was still beautiful, but the foreign design threw him off-balance. A king actually lived there?

"Many times, I imagined myself here, at the threshold of the palace," said Iroh quietly. "But I always thought I would be here as a conqueror..."

"Well, that didn't happen," said Song Lee.

Iroh smiled. "No, it didn't. Instead, we are the Earth King's personal guests, here to serve him tea. Destiny is a funny thing."

"It sure is, Uncle," said Zuko, a smile on his own face. The three of them stared some more at the palace before Iroh finally moved, beginning the ascent up the steps.

Zuko and Song Lee followed him together. "I think the stars would look beautiful from the top of the palace," she told him. She was staring up, towards the palace's roof, and didn't seem to be paying attention to the stairs. A couple of times, Zuko had to catch her elbow to keep her from tripping, but she didn't notice.

"I told you so," he said.

She turned her gaze to him, and she smiled.

Was there anything as extraordinary as her smile?

The palace was much bigger on the inside than it had seemed on the outside, Zuko thought. It was certainly magnificent; the reoccurring green and gold colors made everything look valuable, even the walls. The walls probably _were_ valuable. He thought of the conditions of the Lower Ring compared to the palace alone in the Upper Ring, and he wondered why such an obviously wealthy nation let some of its residents live a single step above poverty.

Song Lee nudged him with her elbow, and he looked at her, tugged out of his train of thought. "Do you think those columns are load-bearing?" she asked him.

"Why?"

"No reason."

Zuko squinted at her, but she just gave him a small (and rather suspicious) smile before she turned back towards the servant leading them through the palace. He didn't think she was actually planning anything, but with Song Lee, he was never quite sure. He decided not to let her get bored if he could help it.

The three of them were ushered out of the palace and into a large building, still on the palace grounds. The servant led them up a flight of stairs and into an expansive but obviously private parlor before leaving without a word. "I guess that means we should start setting up," said Iroh. "Nephew, help me?"

"Of course."

"What should I do?" asked Song Lee.

"Do you have your sword?" Iroh asked her.

"I always have my sword."

Zuko was reminded suddenly of the only occasion she _hadn't_ had her sword with her, and how Mio had almost killed her. He wondered if that was why she had begun keeping it on or near her at all times, even in the Upper Ring.

The thought saddened him, but he pushed it out of his mind as he opened Iroh's white box. 

"Don't take your sword out," said Iroh. "But you can guard the door."

"Yes, sir," she said, and then she returned to the door they had come through.

Zuko smiled to himself as he remembered a similar scenario in the desert, when Song Lee had been guarding the door while they waited for Iroh to finish up with his secret society meeting. "How often do you get her to do that?" he asked Iroh quietly as they set out the tea set together.

Iroh grinned. "Not often enough," he said. "It's the only time she stays still."

Zuko smiled back.

After everything was set up, Iroh started brewing the tea. "What tea did you bring?" asked Song Lee from her place next to the door.

"Some people are picky with their tea," said Iroh, shooting a quick glare at Song Lee.

"I wonder if you could see more constellations from the top of the palace," Zuko said, trying to avoid conflict. The butter noodle incident was probably enough fighting for one day.

"Compared to what?" asked Song Lee, turning her attention away from the door and towards him. 

"Well, the garden."

"Not many," she said. "We might have a better vantage point, so we could potentially see more stars over the top of Ba-Sing-Se's wall, but the number of asterisms remain unchanged no matter how high we are. To the scale of the world, we're pretty close to the garden, so everything would be about the same."

"What about from the South Pole?"

"Oh, that's where the Southern Asterisms are," she said. "They exist separate from the Three Enclosures and Twenty-Eight Mansions."

Zuko didn't actually remember what any of those things were, so he just nodded. "What about from the Fire Nation?"

"You would get a great view of the White Tiger of the West," she said. "The Fire Nation calls that particular constellation Byakko, but the Earth Kingdom calls it Baihu."

"What do _you_ call it?" asked Zuko.

"Xifang Baihu."

"So you think the Earth Kingdom's right?"

Song Lee shrugged. "I don't think anyone's _right._ The man who categorized the stars into the Three Enclosures and the Twenty-Eight Mansions was from the Earth Kingdom, and so was the man who named the Southern Asterisms. Plus, most of the textbooks and scrolls I've read were written here. It is simply what I'm used to."

"Maybe you should visit Ba-Sing-Se University," said Iroh. Zuko and Song Lee looked at him. "It's possible they would have a lot to say on the subject."

Song Lee smiled, a big, brilliant smile that made Zuko sigh instinctively. "That's a good idea," she said. "I don't know how I didn't think of that."

"We certainly have enough money for it now," said Iroh with a smile. "I think we're safe; you don't have to guard the door anymore. Come sit down with Zuko and me."

She did, sitting on Zuko's other side. "When do you think the next semester starts?" she asked, her eyes bright.

"After this, we can go to the university ourselves," said Iroh. "We have the rest of the day to ourselves."

She kept on smiling, bouncing her knee. Zuko wouldn't be surprised at all if she was making an elaborate plan on how to apply any information she could learn from a university to what she already knew.

Zuko didn't know much, but at that moment, he decided that Song Lee was destined for great things.

Time wore on. The Earth King did not appear, which Zuko thought was odd, considering that he had been the one to invite them there. Occasionally, Song Lee would ask another question about the university, and Iroh would answer to the best of his ability, but otherwise the three of them waited in silence.

Finally, Iroh poured himself a cup of tea, and Zuko asked, "What's taking so long?"

"Maybe the Earth King overslept," Iroh replied.

"Do kings often oversleep?" asked Song Lee.

Zuko shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

A Dai Li agent entered the room. Song Lee was on her feet in an instant, though Zuko caught her wrist before she could do anything. After him came a couple more, and they formed a circle around the three of them. Zuko looked around, completely on edge.

"Something's not right," he said.

"So let go of my arm and let me do something about it," said Song Lee.

"Wait," Iroh said, his voice barely carrying through the air, but to Zuko's surprise, she sat back down. Zuko kept his hold on her wrist, though.

A girl entered the room, every aspect of her posture completely relaxed. "It's tea time," she said, her voice thick with a mocking tone.

Zuko released Song Lee and launched to his own feet. "Azula!" he said.

"Have you met the Dai Li?" she asked. "They're earthbenders, but they have a killer instinct that is so _firebender,_ I just love it!"

Iroh didn't seem bothered at all. He took the cup of tea he had just poured and got to his own feet. Song Lee followed suit, placing her own hand on Zuko's arm.

"Did I ever tell you how I got the nickname, 'The Dragon of the West?'"

"No," said Song Lee.

Azula was inspecting her nails, completely sure of her premature victory. "I'm not interested in a lengthy anecdote, Uncle," she said, also completely bored.

"It's more of a demonstration, really," said Iroh, and he took a sip of tea.

Zuko knew exactly what was going to happen next. He glanced at Iroh with a smirk, and then he grabbed Song Lee's wrist against and yanked her with him behind Iroh just as he released a great torrent of fire from his mouth. The Dai Li agents recoiled and used their earth-gloves to shield themselves.

"Oh!" said Song Lee. "Like a dragon!"

Without wasting any time, Zuko used his firebending to blast a hole in the wall of the room, running out into the hallways and pulling Song Lee along behind him, though she yanked her arm from his grip as they went. Iroh followed soon after. From behind them, tiny and probably lethal earth bullets whizzed by, barely missing the three of them and embedding in the wall. 

Iroh shot a bolt of lightning through the wall in front of them, which was a dead end, and finally they could see the outside. Iroh jumped out first, falling with a shout until he crashed into a bush. Song Lee followed shortly after, tucking herself into a ball and rolling when she hit the ground. She looked dazed, but otherwise fine. 

"Come on," Iroh shouted up at Zuko, who still hadn't jumped. "You'll be fine."

_No,_ Zuko thought, _I won't._ For the first time since waking up after his strange sickness, his scathing and never-ending anger had returned full-force, this time directed at his sister. His sister, who was trying to bring them as prisoners back to the Fire Nation. His sister, who had tried to _kill_ Song Lee. His _sister,_ who he had grown up with, who obviously didn't care about the childhood they had shared.

"No," he called down. "I'm tired of running."

"Zuko, we have to go," Song Lee yelled. He couldn't see her expression from where he was.

"It's time I faced Azula!" he replied, and then he turned his back to them.

Azula was waiting for him.

"You're so dramatic," she said. "What are you going to do, challenge me to an Agni Kai?"

"Yes!" he said. He was so angry, completely set on destroying the girl he had once trusted, once loved as his sister. "I challenge you!"

But she just smiled.

"No, thanks," she said, and then the Dai Li agents had him in their grasp as she simply turned and walked away.


End file.
